I wish the park were mine
(but isn’t it?
but isn’t it?)
manufactured, manicured
mapped out majesty
mixed messages, more masterful mystery
urbaned inclusivity illusion’s electricity
with all this put on auction
narrative naturalism
placed its bid
I wish the streets were mine
(but aren’t they?
but aren’t they?)
ricocheted rumblings resemble
reunions, resurgence, rebirth
all day every day
beated path, bereaved wrath
back at the beginning
nobody could drive
I wish the lights were mine
(but aren’t they?
but aren’t they?)
blinding belligerence backtracking
before before before
we were once without
we shine, we shout
now we’re barely a people
without the devices
I wish the city was mine
(but isn’t it?
but isn’t it?)
every ember embellished
elastic, enamel, erasure
underground thriving
undeniable surviving
each piece of the puzzle
was mine all along