Flat City

A master of misplaced chaos
trickling up the street
like distance chasing closer.

A brewer of boastful breakdowns
trips across the wire
as chapters catch their sentence.

Not quite where he wants to be.
Tires leave a flat city,
seeking somewhere he feels free.
Up a hill, past desert trees
to places that look make believe.

By the water he waits for anything to happen.
Dips his toes, takes some time, and breathes.
And it’s all around suddenly.

A teacher of toasted winter
crumbling off the clouds
to letters from a corner.

A wordsmith of made up matter
stamps his way through life
towards something that he’ll never see.