lenticular eyelids hover over the Flatirons, nuclear red-orange.
I say “nice view” to the Salvation Army bell-ringer
standing outside a building full of food-stuffs.
Inside, I look for cheap things.
and leave without change in my pocket to give:
I take the other door out.
this after making a transfer across fiber-optic networks of value for calories.
a transfer of what? some numbers punched, and it is tending to make me sick.
sick in a way of driven feverishness to escape to elsewhere where values are true and not merely convertible currencies of social trust in … God.
sick in a way of realizing that the point-of-view taken, the approach is an illusion surfaced with centripetal impulse (impulse driven by rotating planetary system, and fed by the mesh of gravitational attraction to things). leave me go! release the mass of embodied … stuff and finally convert gravity to Lightness.