Mind Palpitations After Another
In the valley of city, there are asphalt trees,
direction warbles in the shrubbery of contradictory signs.
Windows are blue pools, which eddy and babble
when opened and closed with the irregularity of care.
The street vendor is a rock, his eyes quartz; radicals
on the dolomite sidewalk when a young girl skips by.
there was a murder / I could mention a name / by tomorrow it will have changed