Much have I traveled through kingdoms of cars,
‘cross the Throgg’s Neck, the Whitestone, down the BQE,
as on-ramps ascended and cloverleafs drew me
past the low marshes and airstrips of Far
Rockaway to gaze upon the thronged sandbars
and bathhouses of Jones Beach. What knew we
then of power—till Caro wrote—or of the man whom he
revealed, who wrote in grass, concrete, steel bars;

a man named Moses who lived in Babylon,
whose forms and laws structured this universe?
He fused islands, moved earth to sink in pylons,
sculpted parks and leveled homes with equal force.
Then a darker knowledge began to dawn:
if I wielded such a power, I’d do far worse.

Ethan Seeley holds degrees from the University of Buffalo and Harvard University. This year he will be the Wiley Berkhofer Fellow in Poetry at NYU. His poems have recently appeared in Colorado Review, dialogist, and Peripheries.