Walking City

Souls race down the arteries

White lights shining

Stars fall into gaping pores

And lie there glistening

With every step, thunder quakes the bones

Fluted instruments of a marrow song,

Skyscrapers echoing with the wind of the spirit

As they rush down the halls in helix spirals

Whispering music in the genes.

Vagrant in the sinews

The billion residents occupy each cell

Eyes to the core,

Knowing panopticon

Wrapped in sheets of meat and gore

Little batteries in a circuit

Who cry ‘liberty’

And gaze up the Martello

To a singular heaven.

The heart is a factory

With iron on the forge

Pumping to every quarter

Tooling emotion from raw resource

Weaponing the city

Arms race as pens skitter

Drawing me in, pulling them out

We know the electric touch of cables on the spine

Coiling up to grey hemispheres

Where worlds are made up of shattered fragments

From the orbs of sun and shade

And the swirl of conch shell clatter.

Locked into the grid, fused and molten

The tenders burn bright, mixing into a singular

A bent mirror that views itself

Through an infinity of images

And a notion of

One.

Walking city,

I am you.

You are we.

We are all

All are free.