Unquiet Desperation
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Author Topic: Architects of their Own Doom  (Read 1214 times)
Pater
Galileo Galilei
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Posts: 672


Pressed wrong button in p'port photo booth...


« on: June 27, 2013, 02:26:15 AM »

Tons of information,
too much on how
to build things.
Angles of attack,
sharp edges
reflected in windows
even in grey skies.
Those empty tenements
over the road.
 
Or blue interiors
as rhombi, narrow aisles
dividing walls. Ceilings
with cobweb-less corners
meeting at ninety degrees.
Carpenter's tools
in chaos on the floor
of a thinker's room.
If one was there;
for when one was here.
 
A helipad perhaps
when the steel skeleton
at last has a coat; a top hat
for businessmen and the like
to drop in. Then drop out of sight,
leave by the basement door.
Their walk of old fame slowly setting
in the fresh-laid concrete floor.
 
But where will the people go?
You could wave to them once
from windows across the way.
A long time ago.
 
by Pater
« Last Edit: June 27, 2013, 02:31:10 AM by Pater » Logged
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