If I were to lay down for a while
And watch the city fall,
What would all the lilies
Allow to sprout in my stead?
Would a carbonated mess denature
the lingerie of its pad –
through that supple chartreuse complexion –
Embedding its desiccating nature in that silken fabric?
If I were to lay down for a while
And watch the city fall down,
What cause would cause my rising ashes?
What gauze could wrap its arms around this land
And patch the wounds of a broken plan?
If I were to lay down for a while
And watch the city fall to the ground,
I would lay down still,
And never a word could belie.
A person who chooses to write because it is cathartic.