thoroughfares could draw rosette
beneath a well planned sky
air mass bringing all the granular stuff
and seasonal incident

as on squeezing a handful of dirt
a single nutrient rich tear goes
traveling for days down your arm
running off the tines of your fork
in quarters

fine debris piles up
in a flower bed
or a twin bed

someone's idea of sorrow
like steaming pavement
like marmoset eyes
look serious or sad
look just like simile

how it happens
landscape
and dusky citizens to lurk and fight
you citizen, go wherever
beds are made over and over
this exactly