The world feels like a delicate pastry.
Sirens are blue. There’s such space
between my thoughts.
The morning comes in and cleans.
It’s Saturday,
the big red school does not shiver.
I like to walk to the sea
to drink a cup of coffee and eat
a fish on a bun.
The harbor sparkles with traffic
that unloads mysterious and painful fruits.
False consciousness at the base
permits the superstructure to flourish, there,
I said it, but nothing changed.
The traffic light stays green for a long time
and the morning wears the white crown rightfully mine.

MATTHEW ROHRER is the author of five books, most recently RISE UP published by Wave Books. He teaches in the creative writing program at NYU and lives in Brooklyn.