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The living city

Phil Roberts 1957 (Melbourne)

Vast city composed
Of living, breathing tissue
Pulsing like a heart,
A great mass of inhuman flesh
Housing millions of people.

Shaping itself to
The needs of all the millions
Who are living within it,
A many-armed behemoth
A stationary giant.

In length it reaches
Hundreds of kilometres
From North to the South,
A hundred kilometres
Across the East to the West.

Eight kilometres high at least
Many hundreds of levels
Full of living space,
Millions of residences
Myriads living within.

Living fibrous streets
Like bloodless veins to connect
All its many rooms:
Factories, private homes, malls,
Theatres, shops, schools, and churches.

It grows whenever
Its citizens feel the need
For it to expand,
Providing new rooms and streets
New boulevards and buildings.

Providing water
Gas and electricity
Made as by-products,
Of the city’s natural
Metabolic processes.

Though a mindless thing
It has an enormous brain
As large as a school,
Which controls its spurts of growth
And its specialised functions.

Rivers flow with blood
Spreading nutrients around
The living city,
Helping to oxygenate
The streets and living quarters.

Does it feed upon
Those it houses? Or is it
as benevolent,
As it initially seems?
Giver or taker of life?

THE END
© Copyright 2021 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia
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Submitted by PHIL_ROBERTS on May 06, 2021

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Phil Roberts

I am 64 and loves cats, rock music, and horror fiction and poetry more…

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