Its neighborhoods gentrified,
architecturally first class,
crisscrossed with power lines,
parks groomed of litter,
and ponds tamed to a ripple,
how well appointed it
appears under faint starlight;
even the infiltrating wild-
life blends harmoniously into
this cultural mash-up.
But troubled by nightmares,
awoken after midnight,
it questions if that was a car
backfiring or a gunshot.
A lingering dream still haunts,
of every street flooded
beyond the resuscitation of
insurance’s magic wand.
After decades of indulgence,
sleepless and bloated,
confronting its own mortality,
this metropolis lies awake,
wondering if it is all a facade.


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