I would rather tell my story with two poems: one about the shock, the other about losing the familiar places and associations we have with the buildings being demolished.
Who of you
will not now bow
pay homage to
Unbrick & Unstone?
See how they unlay unstack undo
all we have ever done.
Who can stand against them
when they come
with their earth whips their land hooks?
They have toppled cross
from steeple
they have murdered innocent
people
Unbrick Unstone
unlay unstack undo
turn smashed every human
clock back
what can we do?
——————————————-
That’s the shock: this is the aftermath, I guess:
memory is place
memory is place
the braille of buildings
threading the labyrinth
how can I find
my way through myself
with the past torn down
the road of dreams
with my compass
smashed
memory is the street
where love struck
on a corner
avenues where lips
came close to giving
each desire a name
writing letters
on every brick
knowing
we could always come
and find the places
kisses met
memory is where we are
memory speaking
everywhere
Jeffrey Paparoa Holman