getting the done job

Ear to the ground
I sift through piles of fallen letters
Copying keys, roll down my sleeves
A part of the hanging garden of the city
Downtown the sounds of single people
Doing nothing
Nose to the wall
I follow paths of tiny fissures
Falling trapeze, the Japanese
Are watching the garden growing on an island
Surround the mound and run your fingers
Through the filings
Nose to the wall
I follow paths of tiny fissures
Falling trapeze, the Japanese
Are watching the garden growing on an island
Surround the mound and run your fingers
Through the filings
Ear to the ground
I sift through piles of fallen letters
Copying keys, roll down my sleeves
A part of the hanging garden of the city
Downtown the sounds of single people
Doing nothing