Lunch Atop A Skyscraper

Caleb Coy

We lift our hats to you
Casual daredevils of iron defiance
We have nothing to fear but
Fear of falling.

How many angels can you fit on the span of a girder?
And who lives not on the edge of pitfall?
Who wouldn’t risk live and limb
For a dime?

We came to build.
We stopped for lunch.
Here at the top of the world.
This is our town.

Hoisted to high heaven
Where there is no famine,
Da Vinci could not have painted you.
We do not die, we sup.

Tempered aspirations on a steel beam
Mugging it up for a buck.
The feats, the prestige, the beanstalk grandeur.
This is your skyline.

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Caleb Coy is a freelance writer with a Masters in English from Virginia Tech. He lives in Virginia with his wife and two sons. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Potomac Review, Coachella Review, Hippocampus, North Dakota Quarterly, The Common, and elsewhere.