The most desolate place
in San Fransisco is a long under-
construction mountain of earth in transit.
on top, all flickering lights
obey chaos' unrule, wrapping
A few steps away, water
blanketed by a sludge sheet
chemical smell, that some
Jesus could use to walk on water,
if his boots didn't get stuck.
That bay, still as ice, wide
enough to swallow the moon with
its infinitetimestwo reflection of electric
cities, streaked across its rippling physics.
Who are all these shining blood streaming cars?
Who are all these parked floating boats and
down payment dockside dinners?
And which one of them knows what this place was like
before anyone was here?