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