*This poem is copyrighted material from my first book, "Saturnian Tonsure." In the city I live in, there's some bizarre-looking old brickwork around town, and I once wrote a poem about it! I inquired to the city about who exactly it was that did this unique brickwork, and was only able to learn very little about him.
Forgotten Brickman
The remains of eccentric brickwork array segments
of this city, communicating another artist was once
here. Who was this awe-inspiring, mysterious
mason; this creative who graced a suburb (one
teardrop in the pail) with distinguishing traces of
castles? His pillars twist to the sky! His mortar:
Forever stiffened — fossilized! — in its reaction of
subsequent seeping, a surplus of the mad inventions
uncompromisingly compressed by crimson
rectangles intent on outlasting natives …
Anomalous bricklayer! How I would wish to
behold a society constructed by you and your
raving building blocks! How my curiosity craves
your temperament … Charming and sociable?
Sensitive and discreet? Iron-fisted and freakish,
suiting your projects?
Now I, similar to a stonemason, have layered and
erected your poetic memorial.
To the originators!