The idea was good,
or nobody would have
paid.
3.2 million in dollars today
to claim the works of God
below:
Black whale boulders beached
by Guanabara bay,
Dripping buildings with coastal
window holes,
Polka dot slums that cut the
jungle into picture frames,
The blue white yellow gold
of kept sand and moving foam,
A perpetual diorama if you
go to Niterói.
Without Christ, the hunchback hill
another splendid rock to draw behind
a neon drink.
But the praying ladies of Rio
got redemption right – the leaning
face, the human arms –
and torched their city with holy light
so we can burn our skin unseen by the
would-be cliff, the unfinished crowd.
Written 2013