Cities

Sick how we change this magnificent world
so it is prettier to look at;
(this font and tone, intentional)
clear cut shear shrub
make way for the city.
When we drove into town yesterday
Mt. Rainier was peaking out from behind
the east side and you said we were in the city now.

But I have been to Johannesburg
seen Boston, Austin, and Egypt’s cryptic tears
and this is no city, though we cross a bridge to get here.

And now the normalcy of listening to you
scramble around in my bed like a hard boiled salmon
is becoming the vague sensation of home.
And I think I like it
(but I’m not sure how) to
get used to (loving
or living) with anyone
but myself.

Well, (how deep the sound
of a wave’s falsetto) another
day (rippled by a tiny
pebble) is coming,

and with it, the blind intention of utopia.