A concrete desert, that’s what this is
as wind-whipped and skin peeling
but lacking sand’s flexibility
You are unimpressed and I
am tired.
You say, at least it’s not broken
these heavy parking lots to nowhere
uncracked, viable, and ever so—
Useful
a saved world of grimy spaces
for people who never show
It explains so much
when you turn, tense,
and speak of the past:
roads were hard to choose,
everything so made of concrete,
hard to breathe, so difficult to read.
Of course, of course:
people were so quick to declaim
against, hard to see, so inflexible,
everyone is too quick.
That was the past:
you admit it, shoulders and mouth
tense, and I will add, turning away,
what is the present.
What is … :
oh, I am so quick.