The world is a maze and a mess. I saw:
lights flicker low and then rise up again,
and nations simmer down into the claw
of iron tyrants, and a stubbly chin,
and a market collapse, such that the fruit
flowed down the street – apples, oranges, pears
poured across the cobbled pathways like juice,
and trees burning due to dryness of airs:
I saw: hope swell like luna when plena,
and plain Janes take stands against tame Tarzans,
and folk put on airs – coffee with crema,
muchos dineros, flowsums and Jetsons:
They pronounce all their s's like serpents.
Perché mi scerpi? Sso that thiss hurt hauntss.
urbansonnets 