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about
Rust peppers horizontal rods
welded to a vanishing line: two
spaghetti strands, the green ocean
slurping them, swaying and always the same
turns that sway us in turn
to make it through
the industrial cluster and its flags
of smoke raised for each PET
shielded product shipped out
long after the trail has vanished
by that time one is left
to hologram a hologram
haven in a tempest
land of
doors sliding open
and closing, the midday heat and the lunch
rush already wedged in
and oblivious to the cracks
eroding, who are used
to the comforting
roar as a fresh sapling
of a tower grows under
the corpse of another as
another cigarette
billboard is peeled away
for 3600’s, both shrinking
when an algal pond grows, filled
with yellow paper boats, sailing in
the canopy, but behind the window
the commuters have moved out
of force and necessity
to run
a line
from the first district
to construct the rest
peace that was needed
there was thought to be
elsewhere and wasn’t
like that which was
made in there and exiled
now watching from afar
knowing very well that
at each moment
is a sphere
of what could be seen
out the windows, the map
fills as the windows
pan across it, the radio
stops and forecasts
A digital tide “here
is safety in numbers”,
inner city, inner city, inner city
depending
on 632
remaining 632,
while wheels try to keep
a steady pulse there
is a security in how they
try, and in how
factories crack in two,
hatching into parking lots and soon call
centers, and what is past
it is hard to see, but there
can be sleep inside the shell
of what can
there are others
reaching the north
station, the dipped sun turns
the sea into honey,
what was traversed is absorbed,
hazy in a contracting
amber globe
velocity that led
to this point strung
along with points before
where a line needed
needs to go on constantly
leaking as pixels
the trail still
blazes not
how you remember
it did
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