Specticale of lights

Upon the descent of the sun
I become inflicted with an unquenchable thirst.
I have spent many nights gazing at the spectacle of lights
and smoking towers across this great river that are surely
a result of industry,
I think rape, black lung, bones and rubble, unmarked graves and fatherless children.
but on this night, on the other side of this indigo snake
who carries freighter boats on her back;
like a scorpion with her young, I see what is not plain to the eye
in the light of day, but a metaphor for my soul
wrought only by the graciousness of night.
I see a city on fire!
in this I am comforted, momentarily I am satisfied
to imagine that which consumes me
I see reflected across this great river.