[to whomever is left to listen] and I thought that we could forget that we are giants, monsters with footsteps that bruise the tender flowerbeds down below we must realize that to sleep is not to wither in the decomposition of the soil we try so hard to forget was here before us, but to dream that this ground is not the barren dollhouse we have left it to be these cities are graveyards for the cost of construction, buildings tombstones for all that should have sprouted but was built instead, scraping the dreams from the sky like stars burning out and falling back to earth nothing grows here anymore our concrete sprawls