Empire Of Dirt Poem by Abhisek Bandopadhyay

And if you look
a little
closer, the street
had always stretched to the floor
of your living room, for soles
in restless transit. And soon,
we find it is to be left
with less and less, the more
one learns abandon. By now,
you're used to spectacles
of homes becoming houses and
live farther away, but dwell
in missing memorabilia.
It is nature, in
all probability, that
tells us to leave things broken
when there's too little left
to make them whole. And the street
will last longer than the strays
asleep on the sidewalk, as our rooms
are meant to outlast us. So,
before things cease to matter,
perhaps
it's better
to have our own hands
tear down the deserted manors
of our own damage, than
see them annexed
and reclaimed by the lasting reign
of grime and green.