Cornucopia

Sep. 25th, 2016 12:28 am
cerusee: a white redheaded girl in a classroom sitting by the window chewing on a pencil and looking bored (mai)
[personal profile] cerusee
Cornucopia

I always laugh when they go away saying
I guess this city was too much for me,
This town was too much for me.
Inside, I'm laughing at them, and asking, what,
did you try to eat the city all at once?
No wonder you choked,
you couldn't swallow it all, you got gout--
gorging on all that rich food,
drinking from that endless fountain of wine.
You fool, the city is the horn of plenty.
You're just a body.  You should take bits and pieces,
rabbit pellets, one moment at a time,
one night, one concert, one party, one drink at a time.
Try to eat it all in one quick go and you'll choke on it.
You can't swallow the city in one night.
You have it give it years and years and years
to know it.  The city is not a meal,
it is a cuisine to learn slowly, a thousand recipes to try.
The city is not a bottle of wine, it is a vineyard,
forever producing new clusters of grapes.
The city is a garden with new flowers,
new vegetables, new herbs, every year.
The city is not a moment, not even a marathon,
but the thousand-day journey of a thousand souls.
The city is the hunger and the meal together;
it is the beast swallowing its own tail.
When you came to the city, you were just one second of it,
one breath, one scale on the great snake
that is forever shedding and regrowing its skin.
Too much, you say, leaving--the city is everything,
Everything, all at once, and has always been everything,
and the problem here is you,
that you don't know how to breathe
the quick, shallow breaths demanded by this infinity.
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