downtown housing
flowers around
you;
all affordable
victorian thickets
get
pruned.
but, what's just
under us? this skin,
once a service station?
someone large
marked his name
with a concrete x; it
stretches, recess
four corners;
a priori, your pig-iron bars,
there use to be—where 15th st. sits,
unevenly between—big public plots;
got fenced, like kinder, in community.
as grass rises—
despite a weight of rocks
—up that cracked sidewalk,
our earth
will see
the color gr . . .