Not Boston from Wiki commons

Dreaming, that’s not how the song goes
emergency sirens three times 
breakfast, lunch, supper 
catching dinner before the bridges
burn with colors we miss
until the rain revealed 
the top of its sky is the bottom
of its gutter and in between
its beauty contained
in alleys and the frantic beats
of the green crossing man 
and in the waters, a shark or two
the handsome kind 
but not very kind
charming with an edge
not the golden boy 
but held fast it teeth 
on its mother’s teats

Well I have never been to Boston
but I imagined it just
like Brisbane must be
to Bostonians