I'd like your opinion
on the state of this
building. The state
of this building.

Did you compile
this boarded nest
made of bricks
and metal twigs?

Can you not feel
the cold weeping
through open pores,
or the cries at night

when the summer
wets the old bark,
roars of young blood
screaming past you?

All you do is gun
a gaze down streets,
a survey in envy
as the new cribs

beat up the block
with a freshly carved
skin. A freshly carved
smoothed flat skin.