“The city is overrated,”
is easier to say once the city is flat.
Leaving aside those jutting rungs,
steel scaffolds, graffitied plaster walls
spared by the swinging chubby arms
of otherwise certain annihilation.
They are spires of civic mourning
to be sobbed upon by citizens now
with fewer things to do
and fewer places to be.
Sometimes I’m not sure what emojis mean
and this is one of those phases
but then again and again,
in the future of the country,
to get out of the house
or whatever you want to call me.
You were Q.
No one took it as a joke
Originally at the library
before they closed down the road
way out of my bubblegum.