Brick by brick
they build my new Tower of Babel.
Untamed by the stratosphere,
ignoring the constant tug and taunts of gravity,
progress is swift.
Step by step,
heaven-bound and hungry
to desecrate the Pearly Gate,
they build ever skyward.
Eagerly
I await the fall of the Tower.
Through ruin
comes creation
and you can bet your Divine Behind
that before the ashes settle
I've begun plans to rebuild.
Far below,
bewildered men
meander the city streets
bewildered men
meander the city streets
spouting signifiers,
flaccid and forgotten,
soon abandoned
then
frustrated
hurling a flurry of impotent signs
upon eyes gone blind
whipping up a cloud of confusion
that fells
their bridges
of popsicle sticks,
the toothpick tower
not far behind
Storeys above,
gazing out the window
on the 16th floor,
I am oblivious
My eyes, gone glassy, are locked
on the wing-footed apparition
circling the rooftops
warning in her metallic voice
“everything he touches, he breaks”
