Playing with Old Poem Drafts

The Old Riddle

I'm a city full ofthings to do & you the new mayor: clearing gutters, cleaning graffiti, laying down asphalt.You glove my hands.You shoe my feet. In the warehouse of my chest you fit a still-beating heartthen stand back, admiring. In the chain gang,two prisoners lean on their shovels.One asks: What do you get when you fill half a hole? One answers:You get a hole.