I love the graffiti stains on the same old skyscrapers
that help brighten up the three coats of shit tags.

Between my windshield wipers is another
penis enlargement advertisement or
a coupon for a free eco-friendly grocery bag.
I can’t remember because the sun is in my eyes
and I’m way too high to
navigate parking garages, let alone drive.

From up here I have a birds eye view of
all the things birds hate
like baseball fields sunken down into
cities forged from forgotten landscapes.
And further out an apartment complex nestles between
telephone wires and
kindling for soon-to-be fires
while fumes and dry exhaust
fog the air.