Smoke And Pitch Poem by Michael Pruchnicki

The kettle boils and fumes
black pitch smoke rises skyward
blotting out the buildings
men lean over the roof's edge
shouting above the roar
and rapid chatter of engines
hoisting rolls of black felt
to the beams jutting out
like splindly gargoyles
in a mad scene from Brueghel
on the ground hooded figures
dart and swerve through litter
and debris stooping over brooms
hefting shovels of gleaming stones
into black-tired barrows

The city sits benighly by
its rooftops receptive
to the roofers' magic
of smoke and pitch