Aspire.

Oh you slender city spire

look at you curling through the smog

a gentle mockery of these smoke spirals

and I wonder who you are signaling.

I've been down here for years

timing this pollution carefully

let the puffs of poison rise

one by one against the grey glue sky

and stick there - gangly clouds

with no grace or grief

just a crowded clump of confusion

with the singe of cynicism and I-

I don't know what I'm trying to say

with these signals and stares

So city spire with your cathedral spikes

Who are you singing to?

What are you standing for?

Somewhere is there a station that receives

that sucks up these drifting thoughts of mine

and translates the screams and screens?

City spire does he hear you?

Do you speak and are heard?

O city spire I send my smoke to you

Direct it as it should go.