The city is gone, gone
across the river gone
to the other side,
absorbed by its sign. []
The buildings are foreground & background
factories of space.

The calulations in the morning
shine like chalk cliffs.

Basalt columns
soaked black [] with light,
the buildings realize thought.

The form of silence is rectangular
a word beginning [] city.

Architecture of air
is pure ambition of ziggurats.
The stelae are gone, gone.
The steel mind gone.
The glass mind.

Time drawn
to it like the suspended arc of a bridge
on its blind trajectory.

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