In those swamps lay an army of frogs
defeated. Concrete lots, overhead sidewalks
connect the parking dots, purifying destruction.
Shining glass, showcasing unchecked capitalism
on the buffed floors. Robots sweeping, manning
surveillance cameras. Sterile yet void of authenticity.
The throne of the shopping mall kings and queens.
So fresh and so clean, clean.

I wake up and look to the east,
the mountains I see for my eyes are a feast.
So grand, so tall, so long, so vast,
and over the course of time they last.
Alone, I venture into the wild expanse,
with nothing but my shirt and pants.
The landscape strikes me with wonder and awe;
my mind was saturated with the beauty I saw.
I feel so insignificant in this mountainous land,
as time flies by, alone I stand.
To describe what I see, the words I lack,
perhaps it is time to journey back.

~Cliff, Mike, Elsa

Folks of a town on an old rail line
Thought to make the town square very fine
Put our town on the map,
The next great tourist trap,
What we need is a big ball of twine!

“Lost in Lower Manhattan”
Oh, night, all these headlights, this grid it seems so right.
From high in the sky, we know exactly why, from order you can’t go awry.
Central Park: with its perfectly-measured marks,
Old Penn Station: on-time trains giving off sparks.

South of canal, chaos ensues!
The grid disappears and subway stops
are nowhere to be found.