The huge city

I have written of cities often,
ones I have lived, ones I have loved,
but to each a flavor that defies taste
with poems and with other ideals

that cannot be described in gentle terms
the number of people walking on one crossing
to avoid cars, carts and other things
contact with an endless ocean of possible terms

there's a fire to each city that burns the heads
burns the heart to make the streets endless
chances, changes, dreams down drains
this is the city that wastes no minute

in waiting. A lot has been shouldered here
weight of a bomb falling, reconstructed
into becoming a reflection of the beauty
looked for everywhere, but found in a ocean's
seashell, cast away for a better chance at cleaning.