Architecture
by Robbie Sugg
I live in a concrete monolith
cells divided by
sheetrock plaster plateglass plastic
pipeline blood vessels
cars parked in the bowels
straight cut standing tall
a clock tower (no one reads)
to top off
hotel consciousness.
Walking back from the library
cheap paint, brain colored
highlights waiter valley Oak
branches as currents
and conduits curling
in the leafless lung.
Passing under naked canopy
cold wet air biting
my thin–boned hands
didn’t notice my old friend
walking by.