home

broken cities

written as a submission to voice and verse magazine issue 85

what has become of my city?

the buildings that scrape skies

the cacophony of wheels on asphalt

and the myriad sounds that fly

.

the city was hushed to silence

and the stores lie empty

where there once were rows of shops

now lie dark, unkempt cavities

.

how can life be brought back to this city?

perhaps we can make it like tokyo or seoul

even brighter than it already is

we can inject our culture into media

.

and tourists will trample where we live

or it can become bali

our spirituality under gentrification

what was once the temples of our land

.

now a site for socialite colonization

maybe more like new york, the bay, or la

after all, our finances are halfway there

we just just need to make food fancier

.

and border off the poor when no one is aware

santa fe is a beautiful place

let’s tear down our buildings and make them old

and suddenly acknowledge our dying cultures

.

into a simulacra of stories we never told

what about bangkok? so kind on budgets

but at the cost of so much dignity

so much can be whored out for tourism

.

until that’s all we are known to be

more like dubai, a gem in a desert

the one place where faith and morals

can be trashed for floating islands and skyscrapers

.

and expendable men are used for the deplorable

how can life be brought back to this city?

we are broken, but we have been broken before

our buildings torn down, and filled with holes

.

our streets filled with smoke and water

and our name falling into the unknown

but our concrete still stands, and we still walk

throughout the streets we have seen destroyed

.

is it really change that we need, or repair

in order to bring back the spirit we once employed?

the city is broken, but never shattered

our every step holds together the sinews

.

that stretch throughout our tectonic plates

and our voice has the power to renew

we are the sound of the broken

but we don’t need to be repaired

.

with every crack in the pottery of this city

we walk, and our steps let out flares