the south's fair lady
is dying-
on exhaust and smog
she is choking
can you see her sputter and spit?
hunger is insatiable
for destruction of her trees
even the ones
they think they saved
will die eventually-
for they cut off all their roots
and asphalt surrounds closely
can you hear her crying?
a bomb has gone off-
a molotov cocktail
of inane architecture
and impersonality-
mile after mile, suburban sprawl
look at her now,
she's no beauty
can you feel her shudder with distaste?
oh, where is her character?
has it been eradicated?
gentrification in little five,
her fascination's dissipating
and up in midtown, she's barely alive
for if there is a patch of green,
they'll come swiftly
and plow it clean
to make room for consumption
can you taste her bitterness?
an epidemic is spreading-
there's no community
for patrons of self-interest
trampling devastatingly,
disregarding all her charm
and deteriorating history-
our fair lady's
engulfed in flames
can you smell her burning?
may 2001