Beneath the highway, the parking garage
with its tarpaulin-tented spaces sinks
away from a gray weekday, into
the city’s bedrock. Shopping-cart homeless
wander through it, gathered like congregants
flocked to a subterranean bazaar
or an underground revival meeting,
though lime deposits rain down upon them
like a post-testament plague, and traffic
choirs overhead tremble, horn sections
heralding their road-rage psalms, while
rush hour ushers in dusk then dark.
—Pauline Uchmanowicz
Published in the 2012-01-13 issue: View Contents
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