road 

i asked where they were taking the street.
first with shovels & then the big monster machines.
entities in orange suites 
& goggles gobbling their eyes. 
the coordinated animals came to work early, 
grinding at the ground. hunks of stone & asphalt.
underneath, nothing but air. that's all
we'd been standing on these years.
i worried about the apartment building
& if one day while they worked it would 
give out from all the absence, drop 
like an orange from the neck. google told me
not to worry about that because all houses 
are necklaced up to the sky. the streets
had become obsolete. travel is a thing 
only birds really needed to do. we had
ground & gateways & what more did we 
really need. all the while i wished
i had chosen someone to dangle there with.
someone to ask, "have you seen 
the air today?" it only took about a month
to completely remove. for the first few days
naively i told myself maybe they are 
builing a new one. then nothing. 
then the quiet window & whoosh of rain
tumbling right through the groundless planet.  
i try to remember the road so i don't forget
what it felt like beneath my knees.
sometimes i walk the wooden hallway
with my eyes closed & pretend i am 
crossing a street. car horn. crossing walk.
who knows what it is we did wrong.
maybe it was just time for distance 
to buckle beneath the weight. i wish 
i could see where they took the road 
to dispose of it. what kind of cradle
or dump or disaster. all the streets 
& avenues & boulevards is one big farwell tumble. 
my biggest secret is i stole a fragment.
just one corner form my favorite sidewalk square.
it mosquito buzzes in the closet 
so i have to come & tell it to hush.
i stare at my shard on my most celophane nights 
& say one day you'll carry me elsewhere.
wind swings the houses all in a row
& sometimes at dusk i try to look up
from the upon window to glimpse 
the tether. what is keeping us
from going easy as the rain? i let 
my cell phone ring. a bird pecks
at the back door. moss grows
on the shower's tile walls. i dream 
a street building lover who has 
just enough pieces to reach me.