In the concrete kingdom foisted
on dust and soil by driven men
nothing ever lasts.
Driveways crack. Sidewalks buckle.
Vast parking lots fractured
by weeds finding atomic gaps.
It’s all runway strips and endless tarmacs
where everyone you love is taking off
just as you’re arriving.
It’s the benighted realm
paved over and pocked with holes
that are always getting patched.
But nothing lasts and everything crumbles
in a land of artificial hardness
that’s never quite hard enough
Would be more honest
to build our world
completely out of glass
We’d see everything smashed—
the matted flat grass,
dirt unfurled like ancient scrolls
Bearing answers to timeless questions
in secret runes and glyphs
that no one can translate.
We’d walk more gently.
Wouldn’t stomp our heels
or lug around too much weight.
Tiptoe like nervous children
in the shadowed upstairs halls
when the parents would fight.
Take off our shoes.
Listen and watch.
We’d see the start of every crack.