Walking the Earth

6. damon-lam-777122-unsplash

Walking The Earth


The long-necked, metal beast


Harrowing 95th Street

Where it feeds on whatever it finds

In its deep, black hole

Centuries stir and are regurgitated

In the dirt bowl

Where a building once was

And will be again

As the crane rises and dips


To chew into the earth
We walk


I can’t remember the old street anymore

Was it a car rental

Or a hardware store

Everything I used to be used to


C-Town, K-Mart, AOL, Sears

Even to speak those fusty names

Carries the gray weight of an age gone by

Time for a girdle

And a lullaby


The world rises up in the young

Speaking jargon

Their own indecipherable tongue of ones

And zeros

On an ever-flashing screen that changes

Everything we used to mean




But we are invisible


We are the unseen

We are watching from below

Waiting for the shovel from above

The crane

That will lift us out of the dark

And raise us up

Above its harrowing, hovering



We invest too much in permanence

We think it matters

What we did, saw, felt or said
We are not dead


But we are one-day bones under the building

Spirits riding the local

Ghosts haunting the neighborhood

Visiting only for a minute

We are body-hosts to a Soul

Here to witness ourselves

Staring into the hole

One beautiful November minute


Happy to realize

We are not yet in it



By Julie Flanders

Photo by Damon Lam





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About octoberprojectmusic

Julie Flanders Marina Belica Emil Adler
This entry was posted in Earth, October Project, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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