I wonder about your shoes
Did you save for them
Bit a fingernail, clicked purchase
Were they a present from your mom
Practical, wink wink
Sticks lying on your back
And burning on your skin like pins all the way down
Here’s the foundation of the building
I can feel it even on the third floor
I can feel it through every beam and all the tributaries
That flow with capillaries
Round my bones with six shackles
It’s always folding six times
Creasing the paper with growing intensity and spilling out
Oh to be in it
Oh to not linger on the cusp
I think I’m eyeing you from the stoop
But I can’t be sure
Sure, I like the curve and the muscle but
What’s in it for me?
A bit of attention from an otherwise indifferent source?
I’ll draw on you
For comfort
When there is only scaffolding propped up
My pen can only circle down. I’ve learned new rhythms
That only trickle down economics finds
Reliably sourced.