58th and Lexington – a poem by Aaron Poochigian

58th and Lexington


Dozens of random ugsome humans under
skyscrapers looming like a mountain range
suddenly each turned whimsical and strange
and gorgeous to me. Why that rush of wonder?

Sunlight erupted from behind a tower. 
A breeze rose holy, and I was aware
of how we all breathed in the grace of air.	
The rapture lasted for about an hour,

and then those radiant beautifuls became
haggard again and pushy: they were others.
Epiphany which Custom always smothers,
I was a good man lighted by your flame.

Come back and fire my unexalted eyes—
I live for your impermanent surprise.

Aaron Poochigian earned a PhD in Classics from the University of Minnesota and an MFA in Poetry from Columbia University. His latest collection of poetry, American Divine, the winner of the Richard Wilbur Award, came out in 2021. He has published numerous books and translations with such presses as Penguin Classics and W.W. Norton. His work has appeared in such publications as Best American Poetry, The Paris Review and POETRY.