I’ve adopted a new
singing style.
I should make it clear
I don’t sing.
I watched the water
beneath the giant ferris wheel
and felt compelled
to fantasize with my eyes halved.
Nine doors before you
before you
and I don’t know
what I’m trying to say.
How do we say this?
How do we harness the wind
that carried me here
and carried my fear
and flew the colossal walkway
seemingly illuminated
to the dead end
of waterfront public seating;
from the west coast
to the Midwest and now
and earlier
and the shivering organs.
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