city fridge:

sardonic streets numbered by letters and named by numbers one through some
some.
a city like you hunches, on the whole, as a singular sinking body: hacking
up a collective
fixed-number dalmatian-pattern foam from lungs of deep-seated dust, lungs of
capital D dread.
sad playmates making winks at dead wanderlusts and stunted soul's-growth.
take a left, that's right, left at twenty-first
and try not to capital S stay
capital F forever.

©  Faith Mingus