I wish you well
I wish you right
I spell your name
Upon my mirror’s fog
this night
Fatigue is but a
severance
Cutting short the
light inside
Shaking, trembling,
fading quick
Not sure of the words
that crash you down,
Not aware of what it
was that worked you up
Topographic
Buildings grow
Gut the earth
Kill the dirt
Transplant the soil
Converting the natural
To cold concrete and
steel erect
Didn’t we learn, not
to try and touch the sun?
Was the message
blurry, was the eyes fogged up, could you not assemble the warning that the
myth constructs?
Alas,
Daedalus,
Here we come
again
