Death and Life in the
Metropolis

Soft as stone
and hard as glass
each alone
yet part of the mass
sentinels of silence
mute mouths
echoing the din
of skyscraping violence
mirrored within
a madhouse of light
concrete encasing chaos
equal in delight 
as it is in pathos
the city breaths
as the man-hive
draws in its needs
just enough air to survive
            one piece will choke
            on chlorine green
            another will be born
            made of flesh
            but wrapped in mental skin
a tin-foil foetus
             in the manic metropolis