Realty
The lot across the street is being cut down
Weeds have been grown for three months
They suck at the air, choking in the humidity
A soft plastic thread spinning becomes a hack
It is watching dominos, they fall so gently
Like a sudden narcolepsy of grasses
From across the street behind glass there is no sound
Just the falling, the clumping
The sparrows hopping madly in the sidewalk
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