I see the man in his suit and tie,
His nose is to the ground like a bloodhound
He senses the source of promises
To suit and tie his appetites.
He rakes up the fallen leaves of his youth
Unbelievable that he would hold a rake in his hands
He is searching by moving the leaves of nostalgia
For all that was at once not given to him
There goes the environmentalist
She tries to preserve the war of her internal civility
Projecting herself onto the planet
A vast project indeed
She bridges the continents in her grasp
And stretches as far as she needs to
Her feet have grounded themselves into the earth
And her hair reaches above the clouds
Did you see the man who is a builder?
He displays all the maneuvers of play
Alas youth has abandoned him like a lost ball
He dies between the boards he makes games with
His conflict is obscure and far
Between the plans and his own life force
The nails and he weep as they are buried to wait for death
They are subject to the hammer that is King
We all know the woman behind the desk
The beautiful shell where once a ghost thrived
The paper sheets she is familiar with
Reflect back into her face the white of her eyes
Though many count on her she cannot be more
She counts by ones only
She has perfected the smile of the century
It’s really a show of teeth
Dusk has broken on the musician
His voice echoes in mountains of proximity
He emancipates the gold in his bones
Passersby may listen, and may not
He tightens the strings to loosen them again
His fingers labor and get used to the pain
The wretched and the beautiful are his neighbors
And his lullabies rock a few cradles
Paper Discourse 