Dang Huy


A colorful display of poverty
congeals in the city I remember, surprisingly oblivious
where a fickle sort of beauty dangles like a cord
and key in tightened throats of meager folk.
Starved, they barely persevere as cold, virulent
streets entangle altogether up
one violet skyway decked in iridescent streaks
with golden contrails bled across a
broadening face.

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