MaNHaTTaN Linear

by Michael Graves

Not from the height of a ledge
Toward the bone-breaking blocks of the street,
Nor from the edge of a cliff
Tempted by veils above an abyss,
Nor into a herd of Gadarene pigs
To rush to the flesh-pulling currents of sea,
But from the ground of the self
Into the life of another who suffers.