Napo 5

I love Houston. It's a "real" city. It doesn't pretend to be anything it isn't It's the kind of city that takes a beating and rises up anyway. It's the kind of city that's strong because it's so diverse. It's industrial and dirty and tough. It's urban and sophisticated and cool. And it's art scene? Amazing. 

I drive through/to Houston often now that I live in Beaumont. It's skyline IS almost charming. The city really is an urban sprawl, though, and I was thinking about that today. It's a jungle of a different kind. So, this is my poem to Houston. 

Urban Jungle

You pronounce the Houston skyline “charming,”

How the buildings rise like cypresses

From the swamps of yesterday. Below,

Pedestrians like fire ants march along

The sidewalks on a mission to expand

This forest made of concrete, glass and steel,

While others buzz around like honey bees

Emerging from their air-conditioned hives

To sip the nectar offered at the bars

That bloom like jessamines or quaint cafes

With colorful umbrellas opening

Each spring like dogwood petals,

Offering shade from our oppressive Texas

Sun. A semi truck lets out a roar,

Announcing he’s the king. His voice

Drowns in the noisy urban world, the chorus

Of trilling cell phone conversations, music

Blaring from open windows, and the rumble

Of the city’s heartbeat, tires on gravel,

Feet on sidewalk, ever-honking-horns.

It’s almost lovely how the highways wind

Like kudzu vines around the live oak trees,

How the golden Texas sunflowers

Thrive in any little patch of soil,

Water or no, bloom rampantly and fill

What little space remains within this jungle.