River Outlet - David Thomas Broughton

I was born by the East River outlet,

Always pictured the city in smell.

So I never had mind to travel uptown

It always fucked-up the view of the stars.

For all the strings and the brass there is a longer silence,

for every fear there’s a moment of joy.

And I’m sorry

I’m sorry for breaking the stems of the flowers

on the table where we ate our meals.

How you conduct this orchestra

with a wave of your hand or a flick of your wrist.

This house is not your home my son,

This house is not your home.

For all the strings and the brass there is a longer silence,

All the fear holds a moment of joy.

My arrow is weaker than you would expect,

I would never hurt you.

For my heart is expansive as a sprawling seascape,

And my mind is the wide open sky.