When I wake up, every morning, at the bottom of a mountain
dry raisineyes, wrinkled, twitching in the front office of my tired head
I look through my veiled window and see--
a Beautiful World
a Sun so white-hot that it hits like a bullet
a Pillar of Cypress climbing up from red sand
a Palm reaching, stretching, punching holes in
a Sky so blue and so always
--You've never seen so much sky
a Beautful River of Cars cuts through the mountain
to meet other rivers, crashing cars into each other
gasoline boiling out of their tanks in the white heat
throwing up clouds of smoke into the blue always sky
casting a Veil over the city--the faraway mountains
look even farther away
a Beautiful Blanket of Lights covering the night Earth
from corner to corner, sparkling wool pulled over
the Desert--shining neon signs for Liquor on every
corner, Nomanshalleverbethirsty's Land, an echo
of glowing silhouettes--a man vomits his entire day
onto the cool blue sidewalk
The Beautiful Cities of the World feed on vomit
they soak it up like sawdust to stay fat and healthy
to nurse the pawing newborn rats deep underground
The City breathes in gasoline-soaked smoke
chews on cigarette butts and snotty napkins
dines on the trash and filth of the Beautiful People
who recycle their millions of used coffee cups
depriving the City of its precious waste dinner
The Beautiful People of the Cities are so greedy
so afraid they'll run out of coffee cups, bottles, plastic forks, napkins, cardboard and cans
that they pull their Beautiful Garbage out of the City's suckling mouth
The City goes to sleep hungrier and hungrier every night
Without vomit, without cigarette butts, without bottles, without cans, without cellophane wrappers, without pizza boxes and coffee cups, without crumpled receipts, without torn envelopes, without polystyrene peanuts, without smoke, without filth, the City will starve
and the Beautiful People
will have no place to go.
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