How much meat moves
Into the city each night
The decks of its bridges tremble
In the liquefaction of sodium light
And the moon a chemical orange
Semitrailers strain their axles
Shivering as they take the long curve
Over warehouses and lofts
The wilderness of streets below
The mesh of it
With Joe on the front stoop smoking
And Louise on the phone with her mother
Out of the haze of industrial meadows
They arrive, numberless
Hauling tons of dead lamb
Bone and flesh and offal
Miles to the ports and channels
Of the city's shimmering membrane
A giant breathing cell
Exhaling its waste
From the stacks by the river
And feeding through the night
...Meat by August Kleinzhaler, Jersey City and Fort Lee
I chose this poem for the unusual use of the word liquefaction. I've only heard it once before in the movie Julia with Lynn Redgrave, Jason Robards, and Jane Fonda. Kleinzhaler is a real Jersey voice, though some contend that his gruff is a bluff.
Keep reading and writing,
Maureen
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