I saw a tiny tornado
On the street
Just at my feet
A hundred thousand people
Who would be witnesses
Saw nothing
Life rarely happens below knee level
In the New York City horizon
Too many synapses shouting
Too many body parts
Anxious and lustful forensics
Be it granted, a micro twister may not
To others be the experience of glory
That it is to me
It raises many questions
It invokes the entire universe into a day
That otherwise has much to bear
I almost didn’t notice too
The girl weeping right in front of me
Another silent tsunami
Lost to eyes on the open sea