Sacred City

Scavengers do brisk business
In this forest grown of bricks and mortar,
But sucking life is not illegal and leaves zombies but no ghosts ---
Or few.
I’ve built formative memories
On sacred fountains in city squares
And the wildlife that only comes out at night.
Once you have learned to brave this jungle
Nothing scares you except anything else;
But no one tells you that when you’re knee high to a grasshopper
And already convinced of your own disillusionment,
Chatting up the tourists
While the band plays and the night turns on.
We learn to plant dreams in sidewalk cracks
And pray that the buildings don’t blot out their sun
Or the latte crowd beat down their chances.
From pristine shopping meccas,
To churches as they bleed back into the earth,
For a city raised on faith
The gods that rule here now smoke too much and have a smile I don’t trust, The goddesses wear too much makeup and have forgotten their elemental powers.
But truly there is nothing new under the moon filled starless sky,
Even if our gardens grow accountants
And buskers sing our bards’ lullabies.
And we answer to the same callings
That had us dancing our prayers around the fires we worshipped,
But in our distraction now
All we hear are sound bites and lottery results,
Explosions and pop riffs,
And even drowning in this sea of authentic artificial flavors
And plastic surgery on prime time
We can still feel the universe just enough
For us to hope for more.