Building

Deep South v.3. n.2. (Winter 1997)

    Building


        i.

It's pavement hot, 
and this bulldozer 
can't scoop delicately. 

A dry, random wind 
     lifts paper
and drops      wherever.

I heap, then spread, 
then heap 
the earth together.

       ii. 

I'll cast and smooth the foundation, 
secure the framework,

and set the cornerstone,
that first block of prose,
 
placing brick by brick,

then brick 
upon brick

words,
phrases, clauses, sentences, 
     
     paragraphs, 

always allowing 
windows 
to welcome rain

and doors to let the draft
slide underneath. 

      iii. 

Cracks, 
bulging mortar 

and a great big blank 

where the roof should be.

How flawless is the arc
of a wrecking ball.