They Will Sew the Blue Sail

from Tonight This Is Our Last Song | Krystal Languell

A stretch Expedition across from the homeless shelter.

Are you kidding. I talk out loud so no one bothers me.

Cops stare back and insist on greeting. Bus lane cameras.

New so more surveille. Higher now. More text on signs,

lanes painted maroon. Get your swerve on or whatever.

Movies named after poems, wrap them up in tissue paper.

If you’re young, they try to toughen you up on the job.

Then he goes home to his wife. A more instructive way.