A good ole’ slash and burn oughta at least increase the sightline,

some listless violence,

just an exhibition;

Shave off the top of that hill,

because we don’t necessarily need mountains down here anyways.

Just like the bottom of the door wears down the floor beneath it

every time it opens and closes,

fanning the flames.

When we are coming, and going

providing just enough oxygen

just enough light

to be going,

to catch a glimpse of where everyone else is gathered,

on the sales floor

on the dance floor.