I sensed a chorus underground
Lurched the shoes and smoke,
would break cathedrals in half
when it sounded up from the rock.
In a dirty limestone city of Christ
The underworldly plains rolled out
bruising skies, and birds the size
of men, who rattled in their clothes
The gems between their fingers
glittered like red stars from roofs
and opening the thick black dirt
grew and grew a quiet coliseum the
voices marching up
Ana Celeste Poetry 