the city grid flickers from above
purple and green, giant circuit board
the operators asleep at their desks.
Cellular phones and traffic lights connect
and evolve, the residue of movement
falls stranger to time perspective.
and the cars with yellow eyes (red
if retreating) pump like digital blood
with no heart source to discover.
cells fit perfectly into bigger cells,
garage doors close, mitochondria sleep
soundlessly on nucleolus pillows.
lights go out on the town tonight
except for transmission spelled out:
“Johnny Loves Jane” in lit rooms on a
skyscraper side. Stock brokers, real
estate agents do this willingly, leaving
their office lights on because the memo
read, “Flush the darkness and
shed light on the cold streets below.”