City Poems: Copenhagen

Only if it were me, which it is

too much is Wasted in determining That.
Only if it were. On and then---

Concede, at least, that it is not, and therefore
only relate that which pertains. No one is arguing
"perhaps there was Just cause" No! it is underneath:
everyone may find the Beauty of Cities inherent, and
no one may contest:
However, if it is me, then I shall
accept the Revision. If it is not my,
go ahead and redirect. I shall pay no heed
each triumph of military architecture, each disparate King…
Not me. Not me and---well, then…what else is there to mourn?