As is tradition on The Nate Way, I offer you a poem for Halloween. This week, I decided to dress up my blog as the work of a college kid who's read too many romantic poets in a semester. Enjoy. And Happy Halloween.
Nature is in Central park,
Beneath the junkie tubes.
A curious boy came forth and heard
A choking tree recant aged news.
Here amongst the honking horns,
A rampant disease slowly scorns
Nature for its insolence,
Daring to live behind aluminum fence,
Making more of what is more
And less of what is less.
Here amongst the trampling feet
That hold the cold, commuting days
One can see the dandelion weep
Between the concrete cracks of nature's decay.
Where the sidewalk ends, so another begins
As this ancient city's dying friend
That gave it life, reason and so much more
Is overtaken by the sound of angry hordes,
Buried behind blameless, frozen doors.
Let us forget, too soon,
Nature is in the burning noon.
The acid rain no soul can kill
Is, in Mr. Layman's terms, God's will.
But is nature not a simple puppet
Strung to the wiry hands of God?
If that is so, it can be said
That the body of a ragged bum
Not yet alive, not yet dead
Shivering in the night's chill
Does so because it is God's will.
Nature is in the needle drugs
That sell so well in hell,
So maybe life is not natural,
Maybe God is not a wishing well.
Maybe God does not work
These crazy nights on the Deuce.
Maybe his wishes are simply blown kisses
Misplaced amongst an angry brotherhood.
Or perhaps, If I am to understand the meaning of His Glory,
It is the God trapped in man that breathes the story
Of a destroyed, production-plan,
A glass plated, concrete land.
Curious boy: nature's toy,
The City is but a crazed play pen,
Made of cast stones, into a home
For millions of friends unknown.
As the ocean softly wishes
For nature to reclaim control,
“a thousand thousand slimy things”
grow old and so do I.
In a concrete block built on theory and talk,
I rot,
With no one to wish me goodbye.
Nature is in the rotting carcass,
Of another suicide death.
I will soon hear its song
In the simple throng
Of my dying breath.