A Rotation

spoken word version: youtu.be/yrTXmpHPVOY

The smoking woman’s dog

walked up to me,

it must have a lot of friends

I asked to pat it,

master said yes,

it smelled my cats on my shoes

 

I continued down the craggy, glossy, streets

looking at distant humans.

Up close, none of them were my friends,

or would know the smell of my cats

I took a picture of the smallest TV I’d ever seen,

discarded beside some garbage

I took a picture of red leaves

at the edge of a streetlamps reach;

continued on out of its light

like a probe

leaving the sight of our sun