when does this
paved path of shadows
that jump up at night, just to grab at your random ankles
to trip you: end?
I’d like to turn left. Or right.
Either way, give me an intersection.
Preferably a 4-way that hides a secret doorway.
Get me out of this house made of roads.
It’s still a box.
It’s still a building.
It’s still of messy, wrecked-up milding…
What is this thing
“when a door closes, a window opens?”
or something like that?
So i’m jumping out the tiny window
that no one even knows is there, they think
Breathing in the “fresh, fresh, air.”
Fuck it, it’s fair. We live here. it’s where.
But we covered the Earth in concrete
and now it chokes and sputters meat
and i don’t eat meat, and I am
that a bio-sphere entity
Not the meat of our ever tromping, spluttering feet.
But since it can no longer breathe,
we dress it up like some strip-mall in
heat so it is identical homogeneity.
It sweats and suffocates in the heat. -clw 12-7-16