Finally, the horrible river has crawled back to bed
Leaving our bog-like streets now damned with the dried up dead
Did you think it wise to build on the swollen banks of this delta?
When news surfaces of the latest death toll, will you rethink your new capitol?
Will our streets ever be dry again?
Festering pools left behind will be the death of this city
Breeding things with wings will only be the beginning
When your governor rowed down J street to the inauguration, could he smell the cholera?
My offer to stands to build my land uphill: you need only name it after me, Sutterville
We will raise our streets fourteen feet above the river's reach