bricked-in streets
to the port of baltimore
suggest the passage has
                       no destination
                       like philadelphia
and the duchamp that leads
to nowhere in its portico
           but my mind is on
           the lesser things.
I have a license to drive.
    I don't use words
    to get anywhere

by the time I am ready
to listen to suggestions
they become obsolete

                       heavy eyelids
                           heavy shoes
                       heavy god
                           in a heavy
                                   heart
I am committed to my city
but it will learn to live without me