square blocked infastructers formed from a medling mind.
enginered and fused together with stricky grape popsicle fingers.
the lego babylon rises with its hanging gardens
strewn along the carpet floor.
a mesopotamien oasis of multi colored plastic stuctures.
carelessly scattered around for archeologist to
decipher. all those strange cuniform residues of fingerprints
left by the sugar filled diety who set them in place.
catylist of that industrial architect whose
cubicle fortress of a daydreaming metropolis.
sits in the corner of the living room awaiting
its devastation from future gods armed
with vacumes and cleanup times.
You know I played with them when I was a small girl--- and even now sometimes I go back to the garage and that old carton and retrieve all those old memories of building castles and hanging gardens certainly ++10 anjali
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You beautifully captured the imagination of a child, the mystery and possibility in the simplest shapes. And I love the humor at the end from a child's point of view, the vacuum gods...