Blog by Hannah Frank
There may come a time when the rhymes
on these pixels
are forgotten and left to dust
when the cars in Cuba
even begin to rust
when the Great Wall of China
is barren and cold
summer is fresh
only in the tropics
and the world is sold.
Pacified for now, the heart of my jewels shines Opened for now, the treasure trunk dusty genie lamps heave wishes Closed for now, the door t...