Cement Mountain – parking lot, homes
from – eighteen fifty five.
Blue – plastic train – river slime near a
coral fence, ships in cornfields…
Giant bridges – muddy water flows
beneath cable cars; run down.
Darkness stretches shadows of white
lace – foam passes an island, passes cement piling
near nuclear waste; cloudy water,
a lost reflection.
Sailing in a sea of murky water,
near graffiti – broken windows.
Cops and robbers on the prowl – café – bar,
platform vacant. Storage bins, garage,
tires – high wire acts – tin solider; cement
birthing – weeds.
Metal machines, rusted – plows of sunshine;
sailboats – a distant dream.
Cement castles; red roofs, sea gulls flying high –
broken homes – near swamps, a warehouse,
emptied.
Another parking lot – a hard hat rests on a
bench, splintered – a bearded man sleeps
inside a railroad car carving out his future.
Eighteen wheeler – orange cones – flying
lumber – trains: a prison gate, barb wire fence –
comfort station; boarded up – stone arches,
playground panic – disturbed dreams.
A city sleeps; a train rocks back and forth –
picks up speed.
Still – birthing – weeds surround cement near
Evergreens; closer, a river draws to my left –
moon sparkling on blackened water –
streaks of light – oh night – dark night… goodnight.