Necropolis is the death and resurrection of cities. In most ways, the city is like a body. Growing, aging, suffering injury, recovering. For a womb at the center, a birth in perpetuity. Cities endure or succumb to fire, to riots and war. Find thee at the center Necropolis. Armory and shelter. Cities stagger under violent growth and prosperity. Gold coins between the teeth of the swaying  metropolis. Beloved and reviled are cities by their inhabitants, by travelers, Why dost the ants wander in a circle Necropolis? their merchants and politicians. They trace your form in lines across your belly. They search and consume. They rise and fall at the hand of the builder and the defiler The sons of Necropolis gather to the fold. I am breathing and sinking and sinking at the city’s center. Hi, from the minarets, we beseech thee Necropolis. Drowning in the love of the city at night Find thee hither Necropolis. Strung with lights, brilliant as gunshots, a brilliant colossus like a Christmas tree fallen Hi, and awake Necropolis. Your legacy is home.My reflection in the sewer grate of the cistern overflowing. Necropolis bleeding warm dust to be sown Hot light that is wandering in the darkness of the city and it’s bones.