torn

It's a big J-shaped offset bordering the pale cement

Naturally patchwork grass, the interior, cross lines

An embroidered quilt, freshly pin-flagged down

Circular dissections of aged trees, which

Just can't outnumber concrete buildings

Yellow, green, red, indigo, splattered on a grey palette

Rolling winds fall

From over the rooftops and

Howling through the sparse greenery

Behind, football teams break in the newly sod fields

Frisbee players meet closely on the side, complaining about football

Big universities are brimming with bright-eyed young students and wily old professors, trying to get laid

Well-groomed, fit men escorting smooth, curvy women, practicing their games

while this hack-ing -

cough and

rot-gut hangover's

freakin' killin' me

Throat's dry and scratched,

Wince and recoil-

Too bright, clear sky

Hands weakly shaking, probably, lack of booze, food or sleep, whatever

Stomach's getting the pinch;

A tentacle squeezed tight around an empty, rumpled bag, torn and neglected

Giant specters loom over the city, silhouetted by clear sky and clouds

They watch the park, piling concrete and steel and reflective glass panes

Behind the ring of trees, that surrounds the scene

Growing man higher and faster than nature

A greenhouse cultivating food or medicine, gifts or experiments

These mechanical mammoths balance in the middle to shrink or evolve

Three men pushing a shopping cart filled with clothes and cans stop at the bleachers in a warm, sunny spot this afternoon to have a few smokes

The man in the dark blue, 80s windbreaker stretches out to nap for a bit

The other two converse quietly

One puts on his tan fishing hat and black back pack

Exiting at the other end of the park