Broadway
Lola Ridge
Light! Innumerable ions of light, Kindling, irradiating, All to their foci tending… Light that jingles like anklet chains On bevies of little lithe twinkling feet, Or clingles in myriad vibrations Like trillions of porcelain Vases shattering… Light over the laminae of roofs, Diffusing in shimmering nebulae About the night’s boundaries, Or billowing in pearly foam Submerging the low-lying stars… Light for the feast prolonged— Captive light in the goblets quivering… Sparks evanescent Struck of meeting looks— Fringed eyelids leashing Sheathed and leaping lights… Infinite bubbles of light Bursting, reforming… Silvery filings of light Incessantly falling… Scintillant, sided dust of light Out of the white flares of Broadway— Like a great spurious diamond In the night’s corsage faceted… Broadway, In ambuscades of light, Drawing the charmed multitudes With the slow suction of her breath— Dangling her naked soul Behind the blinding gold of eunuch lights That wind about her like a bodyguard. Or like a huge serpent, iridescent-scaled, Trailing her coruscating length Over the night prostrate— Triumphant poised, Her hydra heads above the avenues, Values appraising And her avid eyes Glistening with eternal watchfulness… Broadway— Out of her towers rampant, Like an unsubtle courtezan Reserving nought for some adventurous night.
