The Patapsco River
I've flown over the Patapsco,
and planted my feet firmly in alien soil.
My toes squelch in the drying mud of the riverbank,
and my nostrils flare with the heavy scent of pollution.
I cross my heart and winch in my wings;
I can taste the water and mud on my lips,
the salty, grainy riverbed becomes stuck in my teeth.
Suddenly, I'm reaching down and my hand
is encased in water like a magnifying glass,
and my eyes wear shades of muck.
My heart pounds against a ribcage of suspension bridges.
When I raise my eyes and lick at my lips,
I can feel the heat and the burn of the river set aflame.
~Hammeh
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