choice words with the bots at work about the weather.
they tell me the moisture makes their joints stick together.
they want to wait until the rain passes
so we collect overtime and talk about cassius.

steam-powered, i’ve seen the towers
both of them, miles and miles and miles
and miles and miles away
i keep checking everyday

the last remaining captive
tentacles splayed, stretching across the canvas
scratching at scabs and still stranded
building sandcastles with a shredded mast

i changed lanes
like the sound of tension on a metal chain
i guess there just wasn’t space for me
looking up from the ground at the shelf
with all the books you’ll never read

do you still read how you did back then,
standing up, whenever you can.
do you still grace the streets of seoul,
hand in hand with a four year old.
does my name come up in talks with friends.
do you still have trouble sleeping in.
do you still go on walks with that little dog.
do you still make french toast the way i taught.

do you still stay so ******* patient
when a man pushes past your limit.
do you still despise the way you waited.
does your world still turn without me in it.