Brownstones are mountains in the flatlands
if I went West if I went East
The mountains there are tired of being looked at.
if I ran if I grew tired
If I stink of sweat will you still love me?
I lay in the grass; the ants claim my body.
Frank Lloyd Wright stands broad and tall.
The windows are all aglow.
How sweet and thick the night,
when all I can hear are the cicadas
welcoming me home,
their songs vibrating across the lawn.