by Niki Herd

find one thing to love
inside yourself
carry it like a gun
in guerilla hands
and when government
defeats you, mountains fall
lovers leave, and the words
of women before come
crashing to the ground
hold this love between
your hands, sing its name
like the alphabet
and shoot woman. Shoot.

ny ny i died for you
stabbed with light a thousand times through
wore midtown like a crown of thorns
stung up on marques
stampled by pedestrians at 32nd and 3rd
they know not what they do
we are 5th avenue churchbells on sunday
next to saks-

the library is filled with stories of you
protected by stone lions and the museum of sex
roaring,
but i was just
watching the fashion

ny
we get into cabs
ny,
when we are full the lights go off
and we
roll on