The East Village

Karen Weiser

 Dread #1

 Dread the Sunday shadow
 falls out of the fan the
 petals bend like tiny pipes
 around my organs located
 inside this bracing shape inside
 a braced structure on the street of
 an unstructured plagiarism,
 this city is an invisible
 don't touch, not nice
 inside of it a visit brings
 a dreadful touch on the inner
 structures, organs, magic
 slogans burnt into the heart
 don't touch, not nice
 what is this propelling
 forward from the endless
 elevated forms as surprising
 as corn in the backyard,
 high-risk sex, the space 
 between shores is felt
 in terms of crossing it
 through organs do you
 experience tremors? have
 a history?