we traipse through memphis in a sad dry dusk,
along the never-ending heartbroken boulevard,
busted concrete cooling in the vast vacant lots,
decades of trampled neglect and born again defeat,
once thriving concerns derelict and barb-wired off,
exposed like the underside of an upturned rock.
the stench of the hot punishment of the day,
fades to a less aggressive version of itself,
as if someone remote-controlled it down
in time with the dwindling brilliance,
and you feel the earth decide enough’s enough
and gently ease the pressure off.