Empty Quarter #2
Blown in, weather-swept waves,
The sky turned
through the wires—
Sheer bruises
unsettled over the city.
Waiting for
something. Anything.
A man at the
road-edge.
Lithe imprint,
where the desert begins.
Granular in what
it moves.
In the event of
no return—
Substitute—me for
him—and let it stand
That a man, on
the road-side
Abandoned, is one
smooth remove
From the end of
the world—
See—the edifice sheared off in the
distance,
Dry channels, choked rivers—
Endlessness—
Where the sea once was.
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