Towers

by Renwick Berchild

The towers, though goliath and glinting
all look the same, with four sides, four thousand windows,
four hundred workers all at their desks, clattering, and stretching

back into their identical chairs, like branches growing towards the sun,
groaning each noon, moaning under the clocks
edging their way around the world
yet never getting anywhere.

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3 Comments to “Towers”

  1. Reblogged this on The Militant Negro™.

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