Thursday, June 21, 2012

Girders and Gusts

The gray dreary industrialist

Clamors to hang on to

A breath of fresh air 

That never arrives

With the current,

Only a cloudy hangover

From a glut of excessive thirst

And hunger for one last nickel bolt 

To hold it all together

Before he rusts 

And crumbles and fades 

Into another era’s dust of a memory,

Her ghost arrives with a sparkle and a spritz

To generate one last quiescent charm

To spark a white hot regeneration,

But the shivers numbly pass through the cold ambivalence

Forcing her to gasp and move onward 

As she passes through Gary.

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