One hundred miles of stop-and-go gave me time
to think about the difference between this city
and the same one I visited different lives ago.
I can see the over-illuminated tip of some downtown
monstrosity leering over the adjacent building
outside my floor-to-ceilings;
this Manhattan says I should have asked for a higher floor.
With lights out, only this screen and the amber lights of the tower
frame the slim skyline view. It will do.
Time inconsistencies seem to be products of continuum shifts,
but my mastery of all of the above is sketchy, at best.
Tomorrow creeps, and I would feel the wheels break around well-worn
corners: once again, it is time to push and see the beyond.