eskimos

lights reflect just a little
from the glow here
a city all of your design

where looking up is the science of hope

but in tunnels
under bridges
there is work to be done

remember the time it takes
for the Eskimos to warm their hands?
wrapped in the skins of those they have ravaged
and been ravaged by
forgetting the dark takes longer than a night

in tunnels
under bridges
the work goes on

long-lost atoms whirr away
at speeds that are incomprehensible
as the sweetest background noise descends