Wednesday, November 11, 2009

You were always,
Always making Everest out of asphalt
Your ship was always sinking
All of your bridges:
set ablaze

3,000 miles between us
Or one breath,
It didn't matter
I remember the night
You came to me with
Fearful eyes, asking
"Are you mad?"

This is a birth defect
A sinner born
Into a world of sin,
Of broken glass,
Of fallen skyscrapers,
Of dirty grey air
Black lungs
And cigarette butts

But you were the tree growing
In the abandoned factory
There with the glass
Shards and
Rat carcasses;
The homeless shanties,
The unclean

And you were always making Everest out of asphalt
And me?
I was the king
Of the streets you roamed


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