The Tender Distortion of Parkinglots Near the Sea
Indispensable wet pavement
strumming the latitude & longitude
speaks to the inner noble savage
stars gravitate towards the corners of the sky
while breath continues to scratch the surface
you get used to it after a while
Trees fall inside tubes
held up against the light
morning somersaults from the vaulted
sky ceiling
wings stroke your left ventricle
The way pavement starts to ripple in the light
the sun creasing the late afternoon sky
might put a dent in your halo