And who would repudiate our right to be young and in love

in this city of dreams and denial,

where everything is always going up,

including the rent? I have been loved

in cheaper cities and I have loved in cities

where sand piles up, water disappears,

the earth is cracked and barren. Poetry

is easy to come by in a destitute place,

if you have half a dollar and a few words.

But here in this city of excess, there is no spare

time or words, only spare change hustled

by street kids and homeless men and women.

We can ride to the show, baby, or we can walk.

In the streets and on the avenues, I hear them

whispering your name: that is the only thing left

when the circus leaves town.

—Jessica Powers