The city… a gaping wound,
A cancer left raw and bleeding,
On the surface of a once soft and supple,
Now parched and worn out Epedermis of Life.

Some would say a disaster…
Others a masterpiece…

Ruptured, intrinsic… distinctly repetitive,
Chaotic and delicate… meaninglessly driven yet refined.
Spectacularly concealing the ugly undergarments,
Of those who produce for the masses…

Monstrous City or Monstrosity?