City’s Present


Brighter lights emerge
around the graves
of salt fields and
fishing ponds
as the remaining open
spaces revolt wearing
amulets to protect them
from bullets,
louder nights fill this part
of the city
as the
Royal Street
become a backdrop of
an indigenous
film nior
playing in the roots
of the fossils in the
New American Empire,
its soul elsewhere.

Streets no longer spell
celebration or despair or struggle,
not a place for beginnings,
one would lose the
concept of age
in a city who
doesn’t want to be left behind
but doesn’t bother
to
stand up.

The rain is not helping.

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