This slant-ass love song is for six storeys
of cement and light and how it held every portable
us blanket-swaddled against scattering. This is
for the width of its spaces, slope of its ramps, the promise
of a place to just stop for a while in a world full
of go go go. This is for the friends on the roof as the fire-
works flew. This is for letting us wait out the down-
pours. This is for the music and the time to hear
it—Murder by Death cello pulled taught across
my days. Even in later works, Turla’s voice brings
me back (she’s a roving ghost) here. This is for all
the heys and good mornings I got to say and mean
and for the people who cannot hear them anymore
ever. This is for the weird shrimpy scent of callery pear
that marked spring in your air. But mostly, this is for the songs
you taught me to write, the curios. I’m sorry this one took so long.
From: https://therumpus.net/2023/03/02/by-john-a-nieves/
Date: 2023
By: John A. Nieves (19??- )
From Troubles of The World 
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