Detroit -- musings on metropolitan makeover

It's losing its symphony?  It's flirting with Hollywood.  It's burning, it's shrinking, it's artistic, it's stinking . . . what is to be expected from the next decade in Detroit?

the Spirit of Detroit

pizzicato on the heartstrings
I want so much to be that rotting giant's Jane Jacobs . . .
move myself, a garden, and the power of theater and music
out of the hall
and into the husk of fled industry,
sing folk songs on the twisted steel and
light the toppling bricks with amber-gelled hope for renaissance . . .
and teach the kids to love to listen
to move around and
cluster all the left-behinds to become
strong villages, and the in-betweens to become
fields of strong corn.
and the singing and the working meet the
hammers that forge huge windmills
sending the Spirit of Detroit back
to the Pantheon of Industry
but this time,
cloaked in green.


And now from some hastily jotted poetry, to a hastily assembled gallery after the JUMP: