A poet is walking the platform

of an underground station, holding

a sign that says “German lessons.”

She’s wearing a blue dress.

Later, she’s carrying a sign that says

“Kissing lessons.”

Upstairs, the streets are flooded

and gas leaks bubble through the city’s tailings.

Pavement is breaking up

the way sea ice melts, chunks

jamming together. Poets everywhere –

a bloom of poets. In the snarl

of bitter currents, even salmon

can’t taste their way home.