Green Zone

Yes, I'm still working on my essays. Another poem for this week.

Green Zone

In this moment
if those around me in this city vanished
I wouldn't miss them

I would walk among fresh ruins
and take a deep quiet breath
to lay to rest concrete buildings
before they began to softly crumble

I would allow the morning sun
shining on weeds and asphalt
to gently bake my inert core
Later, in the early afternoon
I would hear an owl
sound a call across empty lots
to signal the beginning of the day's death

In the evening
I would hear crickets on four lane boulevards
and I would hear the quietest patter
of coyote paws on the sidewalk
At night, I would stretch out on cool asphalt
in the middle of a forgotten intersection
under a galaxy split in half
by a flickering traffic light,
an ember of another age,
as I pondered the feng shui of its arrested energy

and I would allow the hush of the quietest breeze
to rebuild my core
without the ravenous churning
of survival and desire

and, in the moment,
before the age that I had left behind
came rushing back into time and space to confront me with a blast
I would have carved a space,
a 'green zone' in my being,
to be a vantage point
where I could see the coervice forces of the city,
as these forces,
manifested in ravenous people surrounding me,
tried to penetrate my consciousness

and, in my 'green zone',
I would allow my vision of the city as it lied empty and still
to be the backdrop
on which I super-imposed
the city as it now confronts me in all of its fury
so that its fury would never seem
to vast and too omnipresent
for me to see beyond