Found Poem.

I believed all along in controlling the tints of horizons
orange hues shifting to red and pink
and later to the darkest and most abandoned blues
Here is a place where it’s okay to believe:
unchecked emissions and glutinous vapors escaping
the first shift of a late night dumpling stand
If you read enough, drink enough,
romanticize the neon streets enough
perhaps a plateau will arise with expansive vistas.
To the west is a literal past. To the east literal future.
While north and south just want you home.