a New World.

oh! how the wind blows

in this New World.

howling like a dog in heat

and They’ll call it brave.

tree lines receding

like Prufrock’s hair,

and the air pressure

adapts to a new geography.

homeless lining the alley ways

blending into the garbage

and They’ll exclaim “how clean the streets are!”

torrential rains morph dust into the mortar

that builds the foundations for the skyscrapers,

the roads, and the slabs of pavement that house their feet.

lying naked upon the imposter sand

stolen from drought, worlds away

and They’ll exclaim “how tan they are!”

but when lightening slams

and the world goes black

They’ll soon see

that their New World

is anything but brave.