When men **** nature,
Sterile children may be born,
Of concrete and steel.
Angles sharp and tall,
They grow to the sky daily,
On their mother's grave.
Then in false homage,
They build a fake monument,
With locks of mom's hair.
This is Central Park,
A manufactured green space,
For all that was killed.
Malodorous meat,
Offered to the hungry dogs,
Who think it prime beef.
This poem is a variation on a theme I wrote about when still in College titled "Central Park". You can hear me read "Central Park" at https://anchor.fm/victor-d-lopez/episodes/A-reading-of-my-poem--Central-Park-evjmgg