Maw of the rubble

Here i sit at the maw of the rubble

Where trees grow out sideways like the broken conduit and rebar poking up from plastered cinderblocks

No one looks anymore

No one recorded the disaster

The broken staircase stretches aimlessly upwards now

With sunrotten caution tape tied to either ends of its rusted hand rails

They blow in the wind like English streamer ribbons

I climbed up here from terraced office buildings where they buried parts of me as a child

An arm or a toe or a tooth

Some bit thats still thumping

I run to it

I still run to it

I wish that child had come to this decaying mass of unrecorded landslides

I think she would love it. She would laugh so hard and jump up and down

Hoping for another

 to take the rest of these stupid office buildings with it