The City Mind.

Plants made of metal,

walls without a place for the sun to slip by

that it might

whisper good thoughts

to those inside

rectangular mountains,

beside which,

someone is asleep

on some man-made rock.

They are blanketed by only

the knowledge

that they

have been forgotten

or ignored.

The city mind

too many

eyes

partially blind.

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What my Building Hope Sounds Like From Below the Ground.

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Sunflowers Turned Gradients of Red.