four steps
in black shoes
on concrete
left turn
ten steps
front pocket
cigarettes
flip
lips
flick
inhale
exhale
hands in pockets
no watch
cross the street
looking straight ahead
trusting the light

grass now
clicks turned to  
sounds like old velcro
from bending blades
of grass
inhale
exhale
smoke signals
keep away flies and
passers by

27 steps
left turn
car alarm
music
distant
and the grind
of oiled metal
and the buzz
of wires in rubber
and the burning
orange
in my lungs
chased by
oxygen
from trees
in another piece
of this sphere

6 steps
left turn
and the rich
thick
wet in my nose
from rust
and mold
and **** and ****
and blood
falling down
from the corners
of apartments

cells
dying
slowly
inhale
exhale
fire
smoke
itch my neck

left turn
still walking
into water