Roots of Karametra - Buried Babylon In Kudzu

The vines got there first this year. Before the surveyors. Before the cops. Before the campaign signs… Now there’s blackberry growing through the chainlink Morning glories choking out the guard rails Kudzu wrapped around the old refinery stacks Like the earth finally putting a hand over somebody’s mouth We used to drive six lanes wide Just to sit still together in traffic Engines humming like nervous systems Too tired to remember birdsong Then the power grid folded for a week in July And people started talking to neighbors again. Funny how quick community comes back The second convenience disappears. We buried Babylon in kudzu Let the green take back the wire Every root beneath the concrete Pulled another empire lower We buried Babylon in kudzu Now the rivers breathe again And the children learn the names of plants Before they learn the names of brands There’s a rooftop party downtown Powered by stolen solar panels Somebody cooking eggplant stew In a cracked industrial drum An old rastaman teaching kids How to graft fruit trees by hand While the skyline flickers black behind him Like a dying constellation Now the loudest sound at night Is frogs in the drainage canals. You can feel the city softening. Like a clenched fist opening slowly. We buried Babylon in kudzu Under trumpet vine and rain Let the roots climb through the stock exchange Till the numbers lost their meaning We buried Babylon in kudzu And the gardens spread like smoke Through the cracks of every system That was never built for souls The world didn’t end in fire. It ended in exhaustion. And afterward… The weeds came first. Then the people remembered How to feed each other. Low light, slow ride, vines on the roadside Green creep, concrete crack where the crows hide Whole block breathe when the market lose control Now the basil grow thick where the billboards corrode Bass hit deep while the back porch sway Rain drip rhythm on the rusted arcade Grandma trade seeds out a Folgers tin Now the neighborhood fed and the soil locked in No more big men barking through the broadcast No more soul sold cheap for the cost pass Just roots in the ruin and the moonlight humid Babylon buried while the whole earth bloomed it We buried Babylon in kudzu Not with violence Not with kings Just stubborn little acts of living Growing wild through everything We buried Babylon in kudzu And the green refused to die Now every vine across the skyline Feels like mercy from the earth itself The vines got there first this year. Maybe they always do.