the water fills the glass coating the edges with spills
in the brief moment a calloused hand grips the rimmed bottle and twists it's torso in half
he flings it into the flowing street,
stones like pot holes never fixed
and cars like driftwood flooding into sidewalks
over and through sandbanks and mud piles made of skin
his legs shift
a force of running water pulling him forward
dragging him by with hooks impaled into his feet
inside each limb disease reeks
it lies an incurable cause
a nausea of swelling bones and bruises
the worth assigned to human life is cheap
he took his pressed out fingers
knuckles white spread out across knotted bones
he walked on butter knives implanted into the asphalt
blunt steel pulling underneath his feet
spreading open gashes in the arches
he wondered if the arches God built into the floating mountains were pulled apart
Did the earth shove their hands out into the sky pressing into blue paint and split their fingers to form white clouds?
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