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