The Moya View

Morning Routine


The leaving night reveals the city’s imperfections
in the reflecting crystal fires of the rising sun.

Coffee brews in simultaneous percolations
with the morning subway schedules.

TVs switch on the 6am newscasters speaking
the demon chants of the last day’s news.

Knives descend on bread, sausage, eggs
unaware of angel’s ascending in the new light.

The last of glass bonfires dissipate in the
falling sunlight, awaiting the pilgrims
emerging from the abysses between cars.


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