E
Apr/May 2005 Poetry

The Houses in Queens

by Andrew Day


The Houses in Queens

The houses in Queens,
on the way to the airport,
have tar-shingled roofs
pushed down by the rain,
and sky-
gray
aluminum walls,
held to by the wind
of the rushing-past Manhattan taxis.

The houses in Queens,
blurring, speed by,
late for departure
or just now arrived,
so set down in haste,
on the way off to somewhere:
the city,
the Island,
the sea.

The houses in Queens
crouch behind rushes,
crowd quiet at angles
to the road to the airport-
waystation taxi place,
now go away.

 

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