o city of broad shoulders, o special boy of long limbs, city that my grandmother built, i have grown taller than other boys in my grade, full face made of down feathers, wooden soldiers, i thrash my arms in the air with fluorescence, filled with sweets that mother gives me before bed, my brothers shining under porchlight, playing with masks, pretending to be things they are not, i am always outgrowing my church vest, swollen and joyous, my brothers dancing around me, steel mill fathers looking up, and suddenly i am forty feet tall, the rain like creation, skyline as likeness, towering the ferris wheel, doves perched on my ears i am cradling everything above me, hands always reaching, copper and glimmering, i hear sirens below