Writer in San Francisco, CA
A creased page, bruised spine,
an inked line under a string of words.
I inhale the aroma of mold, paper
decomposing and revel in the rot.
Inked words embossed, one word and
then another, meaning compounded.
I close the book, place it smoothly on the shelf
a sister among sisters sleeping in the dust.
glowing clouds wander, whisping
across a landscape riddled with
dead trees. a hollow howl from a coyote,
a sand twister, a skeleton bleached clean
by the sun. two black holes peering into
the endless expanse. a belt buckle shines among
the clutter.
crisp blue sky creases against
skyscrapers. glass, steel, cement,
wood, warped, twisted into visions
of the future. a cry, fog horn bellow,
sirens, and the rushing hush of voices,
tires spinning on the pavement. a city,
breathing, alive under a crisp
blue sky.
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