The paradigm is
life ended in parts;
no extraneous tree
pulp, increased
purview of machines
(for numerous reasons),
fewer trips
to the theater—
fewer theaters.
Children would say
“You are so old now,”
dividing things up like that.
You came back. Know
what cement set?
Quite flat. With horizontal
scrape marks on it.
This was us.
More dense, if
judging things like that
makes any sense. Blittery
rabbit cooked on speed
and crystal meth,
(That is a blatant attempt...
and all that) rhombus
or a parallelogram;
this was our house.
Transparent, platonic
line segments. Then
lifting the foot over
the bootland to fair
farther foothills and
flat land fractally
explosive with
things that grow.
Designs for cities in the Gulf.
The seagull joke,
neither we
were “aqueous” people.
