I Remember Vodka

Is it enter or exit
through the red door—I
forget. A tumbler stands
squat on that counter. It was that easy

to reach across
decades to discard those too vivid
memories. A high pitched voice ruins
this whole non-narrative

hymn. I crumble
on a stoop behind a threshold
wide enough for both ways.

Metropolitan Seething

I am urban
wildlife found in grain elevator
yards abandoned

then reclaimed. I emerge
from sewers with pride.
I’m not afraid

of you. Fly at you
on crowded sidewalks. Swim
beneath barges, sleep in the hollow

of your stoop. Nest
in your overhang. I am
no different from you.