Sonnet #70

There are three cities in every city

First, there is the one we see with eyes
The canyon towers, the roads and highrises
the rolling hills of houses and industry
Second, the city beneath the city where pipes
and wires and grids expand like roots
And what we see above is just the shoots
of minute growth against the deepening stripes
Third, the city pushes off a city every day
Where dumpster trucks build heaps among the ruins
And one could build a city from the wasted clay
and steel and bone that’s cast about, the chewings
Of the canyons, the stewings of the day
The castaway town, the tent cities, the shadows brewing

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