Blanks

The public safety
building skyway has nothing
in its display case. No hint
of what got abandoned, what could become
enclosed in glass. She could

start over. Wind her way
through 7+ miles
of second floor passageways.
Could comment on the return
of Minnesota winter. But

another tabula rasa
might serve best to shake

her free of this burden of shoulder
shrugging routine.

Downtown Serenity Hour

Today’s investigation, a brand new
skyway smells like

a new car with music seeping through
its air vents. It takes me

through a different artery in the maze. Roots grow
to the first floor becomes a pink lit

W Hotel lobby. A vintage Foshay Tower
elevator car secures

me to the 27th floor. Spectacular view—yes. Cocktails—
yes. Eleven dollar nuts

and nothing else for the likes of me. I could ask
for an espresso but

this is enough discovery for one civil
twilight. Outside’s halo holds

only a spit of pink
inside heliotrope.