Urban syndication

Future generations
           will ask who built this city
who lived within the confines
           of these tall steel and glass structures
who stripped the streets
           of their warmth and their humanity
who piled misery upon misery
           in places where no grass grew
where no tree blossomed
           where even the birds
struggled to retain their sense
           of melody and failed

At night the sullen grey river
           runs it course heading down
to the sea where all dreams end
           At night there is silence but for the wail
of sirens that deter rather than attract
           At night even the sleep of lovers
will be broken on the hard bed
           of intemperate progress
each gasping breath assessed
           for its value
for its profit
for its loss

John Lyons