Shadowland

Money: It’s worth more if you can fold it
(scratching an ankle of skyblue nada
Random acts (violent or otherwise)
as one could trip & fall thru those hollow eyes
begging a nameless quarter of sunlight

where it falls all cause & thirst like
& the ex-champ steps behind the brush of
an almost constant breeze that holds the
night at arm’s length while these submarine
chainsmokers spread their cement wings