Kaili, Moving To The City

It can be warm and cold here at once
Like day-old chili con carne
(that’s a Texas joke, I’m told)
But what I mean is you may at some point feel
In spite of the too-dense populace
In some private moment
In some public space like a subway train
Or a wet-from-the-recent-rain park bench
That nobody here cares about you
And you may believe this as the truth
It is not the truth
It is not the truth
After all the one who matters most of all
Insisted you pack her belongings
Find her an apartment secure a job
And begin anew as only this city allows
And so the days and nights will pile up
And echo the concrete skyline
And you will begin to curate your life
To decide whom or what to let in
And which avenues to ignore altogether
Here it can be so loud and hard
Plus the waters could once more
Wash through the streets waist-deep
Or planes may one day again descend
In a moment of terror and hellfire
And still, still, the city pulses onwards
Offering up to its residents –
Especially those most recently-wounded –
A steady and silent example, the only real cure.