Cities and suburbs, real and imaginary.

Monday, July 23, 2018

Sonnet #252

Let's say we walk away from Omelas
Out into these wide wilder fields
Where the bracken chokes the grass
And the clustered trees scratch not heal
Let's say we live among the trash
That floats into the mangroves from the city
Construct our lone utopias, gather, lash,
what sticks we have to lean-to in the trees

Let's say the seasons come, it's cold
Let's say we know the starving time is here
Let's say Omelas in plenty casts it's hold
In trash we gather to eat and scare the bears

Did we walk far enough, Ursula? Is this enough?
When we are wilder creatures, lean and rough?

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