The poetry streak continues with a piece by Charles. This one draws its inspiration from architecture.
Cue, Big Pink.
Built upon that unbalanced axis
The parallelogram base projected upward
Glossy pink frames, blocky like monolithic stairsteps
Like a tetris piece magnified upon that western face of glass,
A stagnant escalator pressing toward the heavens in the utterly strange geometries of its design
Big Pink. Big Pink.
Besides the differed panes from floors 23-30 the wobbly tower, so pillarlike
Surrounded by shelters for poor souls demure and overlooked, the hospices of the street dwellers
Uncared for by the busy cool cats within the one way windowed walls
A man begins his a voyage with his cart
Big Pink. Big.
Ready to collapse, besieged by chronic meltdowns and rainbow falls,
People chanting below in frantic business, though ignorant of a self-caused collapsed,
The building motionless, caught in a frayed twist, solid yet bent, a stillframe swerve,
The homeless beneath in their Lilliputian refuges, sip hot watered coffee and watch for their reflections
They don’t see them.
Along the alleys and causeways of the other stubby structures,
The dominos beside the pearly skyscraper,
A man pushes a shopping cart containing artifacts of unknown worth
He moves while others do not.
The glazed rosy coating shimmers in a sinister sunset.
Reset the unchanged cycle, the stillness, the inaction,
The cold armature vanished floor by floor, leaving lights alone
To mark its once present dominance.
The cart man rolls on.