Notes from the City

Note: Again, I wrote this on my phone. I'm trying not to over-edit things. I hope you like it.

***

Nothing,

As far as the eye can see - the vapid

nothing of hills where they meet

the darkening sky

and trail off

into the distance.

- who knows where? -

A feather falls on the windowsill

gliding down, barely touching

the glass, the metal,

the unnatural world.

- A satellite shakes my eyelids. -

Rolling country bathe this dystopia in sunshine

while it blazes neon

at two in the morning.

Ignite these brutalist squares

as I stare

from a window

in a high rise

- somewhere -

where it's possibly summer,

but probably not.