1.
The earth beneath has swollen
To twice its springtime size and strength of gravity.
It pulls my sneakered pedals down
To the sweating asphalt.
Slow and sucking they rise again.
Heavier now; ill-inclined to move.
Knowing what lies ahead–
Endless watching the idling haze waver
Above a slowly-flowing stream of steel and glass.
From an unnaturally frigid perch.
When the hot wind presses
A sweet and heavy fragrance to my cheek
I cling to it with wings and feathered feet.
2.
The earth beneath has swollen
To twice its springtime size and strength of gravity.
The city pressed to it
Unwillingly, a red-faced child
clutched to sweating bosoms.
Pressed flat to asphalt.
I am become reptilian winter
The seed I thought I’d sown.
Or that perished, wanting rain.
Endlessly watching the haze waver
Above a stagnant stream of steel and glass.
From my unnaturally frigid perch
Beans Repository 