nursing 500 broken fingers

i'm afraid to look down out
the empty streets like trains that can't
convince themselves to move down tracks lined with dimes and nickels

i won't march single file
into the mouths of buildings ten miles tall
singing 'it was so beautiful'

i'm afraid to look towards all
those empty streets like trains that won't
push themselves to move down tracks lined with rows of nickels

i find more that i can't speak
just like abruptly waking from a dream
with everything seemingly lying underwater

marching along telephone wires
that reach outstretched towards the sky
singing 'it was so beautiful'

2 am

interviews

rusty string

the roots, the leaves