Heaving Sigh

the finger slice that fills
bitter town with deep contagions,
virulent and prionic for the
unsavory souls caught in their swell.
a freak occurence, the evening news declared,
expressing nothing behind small vocabularies.
it was followed by rain
which thrummed on the roofs of the skyscrapers
and ate through generations of asphalt and tar
insulating materials,
too thin to be fungible.
once the roof goes, the rest will surely follow.
it's an antiquated proverb that,
hypertechnical, opens the arena for dry rot and
amber crystillizations in the rafters that soak up the warmth
and put bitter town out to dry.
no, it won't mean much later.
even the pundits admit that.
but for today,
it's the quiet declaiming
the absent slaps of worried feet on
store bought bricks-
bricks bought with names,
a latent foolishness for developers and
the wanton developed alike.
amazing, what ten seconds of silence would sound like
in this booming canyon of a city.