Grand Central

Danielle Chapman

From the Russian blue dome inlaid
with constellations I float up through
the underground eateries’ tile glow

and cab it from Park Avenue
fifteen years since Claudia auctioned
one of Lois’s bronze cows at Cipriani’s.

It’s all still here, ochre and marmoreal,
cathedrals soaring through creosote,
inwardly fired, brooding jewels,

retail-grown calcite and tourmaline,
distilled into apothecaries, boutiques
for every tinct of tea tree oil

I once bought believing
the cure for every ill curatorial.

Danielle Chapman teaches at Yale University. Her poetry has appeared in magazines and journals such as the New Yorker, The Nation, and Harvard Review, among others.
Originally published:
September 1, 2022


10 Ways Ms., Sassy, and Jezebel Changed Your Life!

How contradiction drove fifty years of feminist media
Maggie Doherty

How Emily Wilson Reimagined Homer

Her boldly innovative translation of the Iliad is an epic for our time
Emily Greenwood

In the Shallows

Why do public intellectuals condescend to their readers?
Becca Rothfeld

You Might Also Like


Tomaž Šalamun


Deborah Landau


New perspectives, enduring writing. Join a conversation 200 years in the making. Subscribe to our print journal and receive four beautiful issues per year.