taming the wildfires
there's some sort of crystal in the pavement
shining like a pixel
sidewalk feels reel
like a digital blockbuster seen from the front row
twist your neck and try not to feel like your dead
there's breath on this glass
something remembered
the day the grass grew up all around you
so you cut it down and sold the seeds
for a cigar store indian
tempted the new son to crawl down from his electric steeple
enlist him to hammer out destiny
manifest tangible in iron
you realize they've run out of popcorn