The Empire State Building came tumbling down.
The art of loving came tumbling down.
The two towers of the World Trade Center didn’t come tumbling down.
They collapsed into their foot print.
Their toe hold on the planet.
Their fried for rhinoceros bagel
Ask ye not for fried tomato, or clemency, or grace,
The WTC brutalist, or modernist, excessive in good taste,
The house that
Art of love built, near the Whitney, going solo, two towers masturbate, as wind through the willows, let us celebrate.
The Empire State Building taught the world to sing, in perfect harmony.
Through apple trees which don’t apply, to apps, in gold and baroque enfold, sting stingy, as if Scrooge or a Stooge would enfold,
The Chrysler Building echoes Wrigley Stadium, down by the riverside, the riverside of record, Casey in mud blood did strike out soiled solid gold,
A junior cousin or soiled nephew of sacrificial WTC, Chrysler whispers soft repent, Empire State Building,
Whipped as a dead horse, stinging eyes, noxious fumes as humble pie, when they cracked old WTC down, t’weren’t not shy.
Spam of Human Affection 
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