From under the crumbling bridge

The night sluggishly pulls a slimy moon into the pitch

Bleeding out its pallid light on the dim city

And splashing its aura on the

Corners of buildings, the frail windows and the mirror-pools

In the street, dancing back into the icy breathless-air

A fog of exhale glimmers in the moon-blood

From under the crumbling bridge

Blackness heaped on blackness held back

By the weak arms of Luna

A cough echoes in the throat of the bridge

From the deep stomach of its distended belly

It groans with its digestion

While a one-eared cat walks by

- looking for smaller rats to tackle

Then, as if it opened a tiny shimmering eye,

An orange speck of light shines out from underneath

While the bridge’s uncooperative dinner

Wakes to a damp cigarette

Are they so pretty?

The gleam upon the resplendent façades

Strikes the surface of the waters

And then is cast back

Upon their gargantuan sides

Like a childish game of keep-away

Those solemn obelisks look down condescendingly

On two bedroom homes

And squat industries at their feet

They shine in the sun like Kings frozen in their splendor

Children saunter among their roots

Like ants among the redwoods

The city noise is dull and subdued

As it sighs under the summer sun

The homeless seek the shelter of pillared shade

While the affluent seek air-conditioned cabs

Two classes

One climbing up the monstrous spires

By stepping on the faces of the others

Then the silence is cut

A gong smashed at the feet of the steel and glass idols

The children run

And the buildings begin to fall like dominos

While the perfidious illusion is broken