is cordoned off,
again. Caution signs and scaffoldings
line both sides of twin sawhorses – painted
yellow – for emphasis – acting as barricades.
Rumor is, the last trespasser
lost it at the first intersection, took out half
the block when her head – unable to adjust
to the actualization of its own
imagined ideal – exploded.
The hard hats will arrive in the morning
with new blueprints, born from another
brain. They will toil in silence, futilely
trying to re-build what is inherently
designed to crack, crumble, crash.