From the 22nd floor

Walking down the corridor


Looking out the picture window down


On Sycamore




While perspective lines converge


Rows of cars and buses merge

All the sweet green trees of Atlanta burst


Like little bombs


Or little pom-poms

Shaken by a careless hand


That dries them off


And leaves again




Life just kind of empties out


Less a deluge than a drought

Less a giant mushroom cloud


Than an unexploded shell


Inside a cell

Of the Lennox Hotel





On the 22nd floor

Found a notice on my door


While outside, the sun is shining on


Those little bombs

Those little pom-poms





Life just kind of empties out

Less a deluge than a drought


Less a giant mushroom cloud


Than an unexploded shell

Inside a cell


Of the Lennox Hotel




Inside a cell


Of the Lennox Hotel




Inside a cell


Of the Lennox Hotel




Inside a cell

Of the Lennox Hotel