Dark orange seats on a monorail next to a narrow pathway marked by a yellow and black caution tape.

I buy my one-way ticket
and when the doors open
I climb into the car

and sit on the orange bench
with my own window into the city
of a world already built

and under deconstruction
I ride unswerving into the future
the end is forward

the end will assume
a single reality coming
apart at the seams

the cradle of the car tilts
and I watch bricks suspended
in blue straps swing

across a chute of grey slurry
building anew the erasure of time
and something too small for color


Photo by Oran Viriyincy, used and adapted under CC.