The Wasteland Where the Slaughterhouse Was

Overgrown with weeds, squeezed into place
between apartment blocks –
irregular in shape, a vast expanse of
emptiness and plants –
a little jungle in the middle of the city,
framed by makeshift fences
meant to keep intruders out (the reason’s not extant
since there is nothing there to be intruded on) –
unseen, kept hidden in the shadow of three high-rises
(as if they were put up on purpose
just to keep it secret –
to shield it from potential eyes of tourists
at the station),
untouched except by garbage thrown across the fence,
forgotten and dismissed from life;
a wasteland is the fate
that’s due to real estate left bare
for 15 years without a buyer –
the widow of the slaughterhouse
awaits her second spring
(but that it should occur now seems a doubtful thing)

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