Ballad of the Strong Man in New York
Suzanne Burns

You, city, called me from the liturgy
Of Ferris wheel and yo-yo swing
To hoist your dislocated beams,
Your busted axles, your blind sockets
That once cradled neon and sight.
To loop severed girders around my waist,
Scoop your broken town by the roast of my arms.
Marvel at my ability to turn the feat
Of hefting fallen monoliths into making peace.
It's a farce that even sparrows understand.
The language of shredding stone kernels
In the languor of their deceptive beaks.

Summoning the muscled man to fix the scene-
Though I know it is safer to search
For hope on carousels, unbridle ponies
Loyal in wood, immortally hoisting
Their red and white striped manes-
They gave me a crisp map to the Burroughs.
A postcard of Lennon "peacing" Liberty.
A tarnished key that stripped every lock.
A watch to march time ahead
As the buildings' faceless clocks
Thought remembrance seemed obscene
And no one was left standing
To ask.

© 2002 Suzanne Burns

Suzanne Burns's first collection, Blight, debuted from Archer Books in 2001. Her next poetry collection, The Flesh Procession, will be released soon, as will a short-story collection. She is currently working on a third collection of poems, Vacancy. She lives and writes from Bend, Oregon.