Who Is The New Yorker Poem by Ebi Robert

Black snows shows pinnacle,
melting like blind-fold rags.
Hilly elbow, a heart unleashed.
Stubbornness cracked stubbornness to stubborn.
I am trial and retaliation.

The gloaming of starlit day,
a wave of placeless lash.
A Zioner writes steward venom
and a pauper at death.

Tap a gild,
I will show you a night.
The sad to roust flies,
there is sink on carnal-plain.
Various are very very vast.
Here I stir, my stuff stiffs
to his formant portrayed.
Dunk born, fried and burned.
Fundamental pillars
who is the new Yorker?