The cool morning clouds radio chatter
from nearby. This rough dark fabric with me
in air on ground through cruel layovers
now a wheel city
sidewalks half consumed must be replaced or
the last journey was the last journey my
sturdy friend so with hands clean and odd tools
a few small turns and off it pops but peek
inside look an unknown wound festered now
sharp shards of broken plastic slide smoothly
from the gap the room fills with perfume of
action figure trapper keeper childhood
tears trials in rough slivers and
the radio moans the dog licks
other animals 