I search for the word
dangling
in the
s p a r s e
outskirts
of thought.

It has been feeling progressively harder
to get to it,
which is only
natural:
the city has been growing
for years
with little to none
municipal planning.

One day, one presumes,
it will be utterly inaccessible:
even light is not
instantaneous.

That is called
extrapolation
and after
the last
poem.