Craggy face woman head cracked like a cliff, cheek sagging
on a rocking tube surrounded by baggage,
(emotional or otherwise),
moving towards a destination,
You’re never more than 10 foot away.
In the corner of my eye I see them.
The future will not be full of germs.
Glass offices will rip through clouds.
Monorails? They’ve never caught on.
And where’s the jet pack I was promised?
This new heat stifles in confined spaces.
The woman on the bus in sandals,
big toe seems erect
it points up
like its divine.