Construction Off Lincoln and Collins

by Michael Ashby

The enlightened traveler,
sifting and shifting and ever-changing in the midst of a falling generation
of gangs and groups and hoodlums of clergymen.
Hoof first, then paw, then foot, then something
It was our timing, and the loss of control,
the concrete slipped from our hands creating a dent in the sidewalk
splintering into pieces,
defining, rewinding, and undoing everything we tried so hard to create.

Hard hats and caps and pre-packed lunches that dripped down in greasy marks
onto our orange jumpsuits.
Half-dead, half-man, one hoof in the world and the other somewhere
We aren’t even well traveled!
We aren’t even educated!
The definition of our stance was swirling into something unpredictable or

There were birds flying over prisons,
laughing at our gowns,
cawing at the stains on our t-shirts,
and we ran and hid from whatever shame we were capable of.

Yes, these are nice metal walls.
Yes, these are good stone pillars.
Yes, it will be so much better when we’re living a floor higher,
a floor higher than a floor lower,
a floor.
Results, yes, results,
that we created,
yes, we created,
though the stone was already there,
and the metal already there,
and I’ve never truly seen anything come into being.
We created.

Michael Garrett Ashby II is a writer and poet based in South Florida. He is an independent author and the head of Mute Publishing. His works have been published in literary magazines and journals such as Spark Anthology, Digital Papercuts, eFiction India, Touchstone Magazine, and Coastlines Literary Magazine.