Strange Planes (Non-reflective Projections of the Streets)

People with flat black eyes
walking the streets of Tacoma
to dampen their burning thoughts

Nowhere actual to go;
everywhere to wander
aimlessly with time to kill
to dismember
to dissolve in acid
to flush away forever

Strange low-flying airplanes
the flat gray of airlock silence
float above, imposibly heavy-metal
Their dull bulk bellies linger over
indifference and intoxicating blindness
a paralysis of spirit nurtured by industry
People and planes, strange floaters
in a stollen world of stasis


2 thoughts on “Strange Planes (Non-reflective Projections of the Streets)

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