Goodbye to landscape prop along futile freeways
To fantastical mirages of melting glass, the Dubai tree.
Doubtful how desert could announce such leaves
That turn to flame without a word from their sponsor.
Flame like an oil well that will be consumed
By its own fuel of trunk and foliage, the Dubai tee.
Flight centre of going globe where everyone goes
To see and be seen an hour’s wait for connection.
Stadium on fire and world’s best facilities crackling
When the world wide visits for the heat of sport.
City of sand where sand builds on sand
And the Dubai tree flames in one o’clock sun.
Someone streams fake views to waterless air.
Someone unknown fields red crescent texture.
No comments:
Post a Comment