bike/train/walk

bike

West, of what remains of its once vastness, is where the flat fades—the august air; purples, falters. Quick moment. Quicker, quicker.
Silhouettes become shadows
become red, red, red, become dark and darker still. The icarussing of the skyline and the lamplight’s updrips bleed sidelong.
We can not bask only rattle.

train

imagining humanity as represented by humans
imagining that—that crammed in, that nausea
imagining empty shelves and full shelves and defecation
history’s image as (not) repetition as immutable
imagine some other’s bent spine
your own
late again.

walk

we walk the square shapes of parks
and eye the critters
and eye the curves
and I spiral
you cross your heart and meet me at its center
darling, you say, there’s a man out there and he’s up to
no good

we don’t quite hold hands; pinkies tracking
palms, faces
forward

Michael Farfel's work has appeared in X-R-A-Y Lit, Hobart (2021), Juked, Anti-Heroin Chic, and elsewhere. His most recent and forthcoming novels can be found through Montag Press. He recently received an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Utah. The rest of his work can be found on his website: MichaelFarfel.com