a 2004 poem
we make messes and hang them on walls. while walking through the city we see red brick covered in our lies. magnificent buildings with shitty art. a man holding a breifcase understands what one means in the right light, and recognizes the pain somewhere in his chest. the eternal heartburn of his actual heart burning and waiting for something better as trollies roll by nonchalantly. a young woman in a flowing skirt holding on with clenched fists as she passes a window telling her to remember the happiness of one man in africa. its difficult to comprehend feeling beaming from steal and glass and brick and cement; but an outter layer of sloppy canvas hides emotion buried deep inside and underground. with a lasting smile a small child brings both hands to the side of skyscraper and grins knowing she has found the key to love. somewhere in time she is stuck smiling against the wall. the gods of our messes put on their masks and begin to weld. she melts. and drips into hard cement (as impossible as that might sound), and finds her mother holding the substance that she is. the gods finish, and the wall is left graffitied with a feeling so strong that the building glows and radiates the heat of the worlds pumping hearts. people pass, and only few stop to recognize that same feeling they have buried underneath their feet.