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Rated: E · Poetry · Biographical · #901366
About my city.
Half in love with subways,
Crawling through dark arteries of the city,
She feels no more than single celled.
Rusted red like iron in her blood,
That rust keeps her alive.
Funny, she always dreamed herself green,
Carried through tracheids
To the heights of trees,
Not this underground ineffective bacterium,
No more able to infect the city with words
Than attenuated viruses
Or diptheria blocked by vaccination.
So here she is,
Vessel in the steel and concrete beast,
Half in love with subways,
Imagining cities in her veins.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/901366-Blood