one-way roads in allentown

i don't need to go home.
each pothole is full of gold.
i consider pulling over. becoming
a prophet & filling my hands
with ice cream. 
we become the needle's eye.
all the birds fly through. i am jealous 
of the paths of bikes. they scale
the skyscraper's legs. let's not pretend
we had a door. let's not try
to say we had anything to do
other than clean the windows again.
it is autumn which means one day soon
the heater will resurrect
& the building will become so hot
we all boil. chicken flesh
in the oiled sun. i take another 
wrong angel. the alley is blocked
by trash bins. every day is 
trash day in the holiest corners
of the knot. have you ever 
tied your fingers together?
stoplights like wedding rings. 
you call & ask if i am dead. i do not know
how to answer. talk to text,
"i am a hive." the city's wooden leg.
gutters full of muck leaves 
& eye blinking up. i find my way out.
the trunk is full of swan. 
i park on a different block. walk 
through a field of balloons
to reach the strangled lawn. 
we still don't have curtains.
i can see right inside
our first-floor apartment. ribs & all.