lot

We walked gingerly
through fetuses
of the American Dream;

through skeletons
unsheathed,
erections coming
into being

we poked around
in places
soon to be the spaces
of strangers

we didn’t belong,
as we glided
through wall frames,
grazed wires

we probed the guts
of blueprints,
secret plans
and dreams

bundles of seams
where electricity
and blood
would pulse

warm cases
for the breathing
to sleep and grow

row after row
of identical
unfinished creations

secluded havens,
neatly arranged
in crowded isolation

incubating
the same
American Dreams

c. 2001, 2008 Evan Gilling [this might be my personal favorite]

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