The smell of asphalt and people
dancing
through metal veins,
into brick temples,
obediently praying
to the Network
—
Significance, ineffable
mostly trampled by glass, light, and money
occasionally caricatured, begrudgingly
rarely, fleetingly
Radiant
—
Haphazard
collage of Architecture
cascading Futures
cancerously invading each other
—
Expensive
but the trains run on time,
and you can always get
where you want to go
—
Young and beautiful
the cream of a generation
striding confidently
on polished wingtips
and 4-inch heels
into the Gene Thresher
—
A Universe
like all the Bliss and Anguish
of a million lifetimes
live on this block
—
Effortless enormity,
massively, deliberately Horizontal
with arbitrary hiccups of Vertical
—
Lonely
like someone forgot
to remind everyone
they’re human
*
Was this poetry?
Maybe.
My tea is cold…