Liars' Box

This is a liars' box

Where anyone can speak

Take orders and go

March swiftly

Combustible

With pointed hands

And it sees you

Outside of its hawks eye

Droplets from an aircraft

Onto a city of paper

Burning

A gust of lust blew it out

But the arcade is in your shades

Mirrors on 62nd Street

Summons of a glass

In a sad sad heaven