isolate
a translucent buckling pavement to stand on, stretched thin and hubrent from a small starting sphere, a condom, a limited pliable apparatus I could pull originally to the left and three inches would incur a stop.
and three inches to the right, or side also was similar, if you wanted to expand your livingquarters do it this way.
the structure allowed for small movement when you pull past three, a tiny dot of vanity or vacuousness appears it’s only a hole, administering pinpricks of light to my pupil and lash, greatly limiting the stability of the surface.
so, you see, polite footsteps are necessary, no trampoline, no coil-bottomed shoes propel my walking far.
here’s what I do, what’s done, that is.
what I did on my rubber pavement, why I shrink from the rending gaps through which the cities below are visible and it is pre-dawn there (always) and the juicy garbage trucks drip and growl along the hollow streets, only picking up white refuse, leaving the soot and crumbs of solvent and cremated paper hats aside, so blended and uniform gray they emit, undistinguishable, a textured and powdery ash in the crevices, similar to a fertile cartoon wind when airborne.
The pre-dawn city to fall to, plummet into, more like, -
when the structure on which I stand will collapse, finally tweak and spring nimbly apart and scatter into negligible putrescent tatters…
- I watch it, craning my neck, careful and notice the softer patches in the city, the better for landing on.
Matt-ress in a yard? Uncut grass over th-ere, that patch may offer cushioning the hillock I mean, not if I land on my knees or neck. though why bother preserving that uncradled cup of memories, I don’t know why anyone would.
I wait and wait I stand. balance and bound graceless feel the slight unhealthy give beneath my heels, it bulges dangerously downward not so opportune a bulge not like a bridge or tower. I smell the soot-encrusted pizzas. Give me one to gnaw on, it was overwarmed and is now brown. poor dear roaming, the adjacent individuals are blurs, going to some such place of worship and money and you pout and look away from
what?
from nothing of significant lineage. tenderly look for more landing patches if you may, you have no sense of how much
time remains.