I insist on building cities in my mind
My only material: time
Mark the spot that I found
With a hole in the ground
In a place only I can find
On shaky foundations I raise intricate walls
Filled with empty rooms and dead-end halls
Find a handsome door to stop and stand
And fumble with a pile of keys in my hand
Match the key to the lock by the pattern of rust
Twist, turn and open, greet a buttress of dust
Make plans for the future
Put signs over the door
Spin scandalous schemes
And map out the floor
Furnish with fancies
Snatched out of their soar
Conceive a daydream in a lusty embrace
Impregnate a whim and abandon the place
Lock it up tight, move onto the next
Until the rooms are full of discarded rejects
Cross the street to a greener plot
Build again upon an empty lot
Over and over, as the city spreads wide
Filled with the ghosts of promising lies