Machines and mountains
Mountains built out of concrete slabs
and crumbling rock
machine switched on
moving through the spiderweb memories
of streets that no longer have definition
and the machines
scorch the sky with sounds of nuclear war
and falling giants.
But I watch on as if in an illusion
and walk through the doors
as a campus becomes a canvas
and Armageddon comes swiftly
to parking spaces and tree lines.
Machines and mountains.