Oculus by Rick Mullin

Oculus

Upon the opening of the World Trade Center Path Station

Today, I left Manhattan through a mall
that looked a little like a pterodactyl;
Jurassic Park in a thoracic hall,
its skylight cutting daytime to a fractal.
I’d seen it from the street. A stegosaurus
AWOL from the Natural Museum
way uptown, a looming basilisk
of sunbaked bone, an oval coliseum.
It came in over-budget with its whisk
of angels in an asymmetric chorus
making wings. Leviathan, it sank
into the new-built plaza at Ground Zero.
Phoenix flayed. But take it to the bank,
as did the cat with blueprints, caballero.
One extinct design shall come before us.

by Rick Mullin

Editor’s Note: It’s always a delight to read a poem in which every word and line break is purposefully chosen, and every image perfectly fit into its place.

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