"Winter Deletion Pastoral"

The Blade Runner neighborhood
dark tonight
              with no views
of the moon on someone’s
invading laptop,

              indigo chain errors
of dusk populated
              with ticking
of a storefront’s
garbage sack
bouquets

and footsteps that only murmur,

people tapping, heads down
in cyber versions
              of happiness,

trees that are brown and wrong,
rain that is warm
and wrong,
a man outside his pigeon tenement
cursing at something—
              a dropped cigarette?
              a phone virus?
              another passerby in need
              of a broken violet?
showing how,
by simply holding one,
a bottle of plastic water
can bruise.

Click here to read: “WINTER DELETION PASTORAL”