i went to the city today; haven't been in some time. i almost really like this.
about tiger stadium.
this old ballpark,
this shell, this skeleton
of a city,
held up for years upon years
under impossible weights,
knees finally buckling and then bending
under the weight of the years,
the wars, the riots, the wars.
(the motor city burned burned burned to the ground)
scarred and scored by gunfire,
bleached white like sun-dried sun-kissed bones.
caught in the crosshairs of a war
as her city dies in inches around her,
atrophying into nothing.
(no phoenix rising for this city of ashes)
a concrete rose blooming in a garden of decay,
rising up to the sky
like a prayer.