Bodies that jostle, press, heave.
The physicality of these streets.
And money that leaks, warmth
in the city’s erogenous zones.
Those who get ahead
adopt the metal crane’s posture,
grow in the direction of the skyline.
We keep the turbulence inward
unlike in days past.
Who knows what will reawaken
it from its slumber?
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Excerpt from “Reaching Saturation” from The Rupture Tense. Copyright © 2022 by Jenny Xie. Used with permission from the poet.
