posable

even though we live near time square
i wanted to take a picture with you
there last night. throw the camera
in the air & let it eat us.
each billboard a cape or a blanket,
hot to the touch. lay down on 
the sidewalk with me, will you?
i want to look at all the posable people
with their posable arms & their 
posable mouths & their posable pockets.
everyone went wooden to me,
like those movable figures you
use for figure drawing, fixed to
the earth by a metal rod. my uncle
used to have one on his mantle 
besides a row of beer bottles &
sardine cans. there was a sardine can
on the bench at the train station where
i got off & feel myself still
posable. i took a picture then only
you weren't there. you told me,
that you can't see any stars in
new york city because of all the light,
which i knew but i preferred to
hear it from you. i begin to think
that maybe each time one shows
up that someone swipes it,
tucks it under their tongue
like a throat lozenge. no one
would notice it gone in the all
photo-taking festival protesting
i wished i would  have spotted one. 
i was feeling wild
& willing to take.
i would have made it into a stud
to pierce your ear with or
would have taken a thread through it,
a button maybe or a necklace.
humans have no right playing with
stars though. i could probably
watch people taking picture of
themselves & their lovers
for eternity if that meant i
could take pictures of you too.
i'm imagining the whole place,
maybe at just one time of night
being empty. we could lay down
on the filthy asphalt sidewalk world,
feeling the unfulfilled footprints
as the passed across our backs.
i would ask you to pose for me.