we

our city is dead
we
prop up the body
we
live with it
stinking
carcass
we
love with it

we
build a coffin around it
heap the concrete
steel asphalt into
our own image
our own imagination
our own imitation
of anti-ness

our city is dead
we
bury the being
with memories opportunities
we
bury the generous organs in Styrofoam cups
we
throw plastic petals at peace
we
toss bouquets of crepe paper into a rushing breeze
we
tug at the gown tail of
property hope togetherness serenity
we
sprinkle our stories dreams revelations
we
move on
dumb vacant thoughtless and defiantly dying