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