I saw a glass tower today.

Tucked between trees

On a hill that continued to descend into nothingness

I saw white mannequins showing off nothing

And a glass sign that read

“Science is God”.

I saw graffiti with misspelled and broken words

On centuries of broken brick

I saw Victorian homes

Painted black

With the Virgin Mother in the window next to a pentacle

I saw pride

And I saw shame

I saw the cardboard tents popping up like miniature cities

I saw skyscrapers too high to see end

My heart filled with an emotion I can’t describe

Akin to a recurring sadness

That I can’t place in origin

My heart belongs to the city

Yet the city never made a motion to grab it

I’m not quite sure what draws me there

But for a moment, I feel like I’m twelve again

Crying over how disappointing reality is

Or I feel like I was two months ago

When the doctors told me that I had to be cut open

And sewn back together

As we passed the tower

The pentacle

The graffiti

And the cardboard tents

I returned to the present

Yet my heart was still left in the city


I make trips into Seattle not as often as I’d like. However, the drive is long and tedious, and the traffic in such a large city is always a pain. I went back once again after writing this poem, and I couldn’t fine either the tower nor the house. Perhaps it was a dream that wormed its way into my memories. Either way, I can see it clear as day. Perhaps they’ll be there the next time I visit.