45*21

we drag our heals
curbs
Lasting only a few minutes
the woman hoists, unreal
Underground water ways
we hear the surface.
There is some beneath
but what
The child of unreal ideas
hedonist frailty
the man and his diatribe
they'll get to know one another
the blond
a bicyclist
triumphant pancakes
a loss leader
we are in this perpetually
as if there were another way
a grandmother's way
not just any
the ramp curving infinity
a blasting into silence
it marks the blankness
a growing sense of umbrella
machine gnomes
at the end of a tidal cycle