The blender

Mind mixed with exhaust,
honking,
impatience.
Memories
falling apart;
the sidewalk ends.
Across the Main Boulevard,
walking swift,
avoiding the downtown buses impatient turn.
A meditation among
the noise,
the congestion,
the smog.

Did I love her?
Was it real?

Congestion in the mind.
Clouds passing slowly, sickly
overhead,
A bird on a wire
watches for a bit of bread.

Pollution spreads out
like a spill on the counter
dripping over
onto the floor.
Thick particulate hovers in the air,
beyond recommended levels.

Beyond tolerance.

But,
what?

It’s too much,
but where can you go?
What can you do?

Take it in,
over and over again
filter the ugly brown.
The heaviness,
the cloudy layer that investigates your lungs,
for inspiration
searches your brain, for signs of life,
a fight.

Look, there is a bird on a wire
a ray of sunlight penetrating the smog,
the noise.
There is the vibration, of the 10 million lives
all together
breathing in
breathing out.

Inspiration.

A meditation of the mind
while
the body walks on
in the NYC blender
on "pulverize".