The land forced to yield to water for jungles of skyscrapers
with anodized windows and welded greed
minions of directionless forces slathering on cement
the minions dying for food and killing in the process
a hundred other dreams.
To breathe sometimes i run away from this land piled under concrete
i run to hide further, farther from the city
i run and find the brick kilns there
and the benzyl smell of cheap plastic
i run back into my town
The city finds me there
and builds buildings, flyovers and bridges
flooding sodium lights in my room.
my curtains recede leaving me bare
to the prying eyes of a window 3 inches away
i long for my childhood pastures
now under a million hungry feet.
