I have squeezed out my city
for mellow sweet waters at dawn
as well as bitter fluorescent juices at dusk,
drank from ever-interrupted flows;
took in the whole load: gagged, swallowed.
I have squeezed out my city
for rivers to entrench themselves
for rivers not to feed, but to become, the sea.
those waves I liked to call coincidence,
although I, the moon, had summoned the tide.
I have squeezed out my city,
over and over with my bare hands.
that means: wrung out, pressed, extracted
until the last drop died;
cried, as I myself ran dry – and away.