he walks
squinting down
at his phone
seven foot tall
in bright purple
past a group
of ladies in
business attire
heels clacking
loudly on a
quiet tuesday
right before
the mad lunch
rush begins

my head hurts
and my backpack
digs into my
spine as i shift
my shoulders
and follow
the amethyst giant

there is
construction two
streets over
and the road
is packed with
cars searching
for an open
space between
randoms showers
from sunny skies
as acorns bounce
off the car roofs
in banging clangs
mimicking the
jackhammers
in the distance

groups linger
clots clogging
arteries
and i am just
a white blood
cell long past
expiration
seeking the spleen
to flush me from
this toxic system
following the
purple man into
a spiraling
madness between
errant storms