City Planning Pantoum
The time it takes your lungs to learn Ravi Shankar’s Midnight raga is the same
as it takes your apartment to turn Macadamias into honey. The sweetest story I ever heard was about the boyfriend who greeted his girlfriend at the station platform dressed in her clothes. Their future was doomed. The sidewalk is made of broken verse.
The sweetest story I ever heard was about the girlfriend who hung a hammock of stars beneath the sidewalk canopy for her blind boyfriend. Midnight-to-Six
is the metric city planners should use to see the sidewalk. The wind is made of
apartment buildings. Separatist metrics cannot blur this artless notion that shelter is somehow bad for the neighborhood.
Midnight-to-Six is the metric city planners should use when they dress up in furs and platform shoes to survey the district. A verse from Bo Diddley’s Pretty Thing is a
rendering of Ravi Shankar’s evening raga. The artless notion that additional housing is bad follows the artless notion that shelter requires mitigation. Apartment buildings are made of our returns from the station.
Greetings, I’m on the art committee for the skate park. The time it takes to turn verses into resources is the same as to dress up in fur & silk glamour. The sidewalk is made of stories about boyfriends & girlfriends. Like the one about the future, when Midnight asks the canopy: Do your lungs have a favorite song, at this late hour?