You can see buildings
being built in Brooklyn,
resembling new-age
Bauhaus architecture,
filled to the top with
accountants and
new wave hipsters
with beards
and tattoos. 
And they drink a PBR
for breakfast, and
sluggishly melt
themselves to
the outside world,
where they sip
coffee, smoking a
cigarette, thinking
about the happy hour
next door.
And they ask themselves,
“What are we doing
with our lives?”
And in the meantime
poor immigrants
roam, like new-found
apes from the old
world, asking themselves,
“is this what I came
here for? To work
like a dog for the
upper class jerks?”
They are both
miserable lovers.
And the old houses
get swept aside by
construction cranes
and bulldozers.  And
things change, and
people stay the same.
And you can see
these buildings
crawl upwards,
from within the view
of parks and water-towers.
And I sip on my beer
and ask, “what am I
doing with my life?"

Summer 2007