To the Towers Themselves

They were never the favorites
Not the Carmen Miranda Chrysler
Nor Rockefellar's magic boxes
Nor the Empire, which I think
Would have killed us all if she fell.

They were the two young dumb guys
Beer drinking
Downtown MBA's
Swaggering across the skyline
Not too bright
Now they are gone
They are like young men
Lost at war
Not having lived their life yet,
Not having grown wise and softened
   With air and time
They are lost like
Cannon fodder
Like farm boys throughout time
Stunned to death
Not knowing what hit them
And beloved
By the weeping mothers left behind.


*** The New York Historical Museum Exhibit ***
It was found in Union Square and cleaned up
by the Parks and Recreation Department