Angry At The Sun

Some day
the future will need to blot out
the sun
because there will be no way
to undo,
no way
to shake our sweet, stupid junk –

appalling colossal umbrellas,
ominous domes,
great sheets of imperfect construction,
bridges
of cheap steel stretched out over whole cities,
a deep black cantilever teetering over a metropolis upon a giant
pin,
informal nightmares
lugging
the heavy comfort of
auspicious
science fiction.