Self-Portrait as Art Deco

I’m The Chrysler, streamlined,
             needling into the future 
                          between wars. Fearless, 
                                       I’m decked out in chevrons, 
                                                    poison green 
             Bakelite cuffing my arm. I’m a daymare
from playing Radio City. Jazz smoking 

             the subway. Come kingdom or riverbend, 
                          I’m platinum brag, cool as cypress. Flashbulbs 
                                       halo behind me. One heel
on the running board, no Dust Bowl in my pencilled 
                           gaze, each time I step 
                          
into the city, I’m Sing Sing to your river. 
             The cobalt pistol dozing in a gloved hand. 
                          MGM stars dancing through 
                                       Cubist rooms
                                                    have nothing on me. 
             My heart ties a bracelet of black water 
around you. Tonight, a chain of bonfires.