Upon closer inspection,
the gashes in the sky (or electrical wires)
leave cerulean cracks around your pupils,
carefully formed to weld to your eyes and
obstruct your view
of the valley below.

The highways are lined with
shards of glass and smashed rubies.
They were once salt-dripping stalactites
in the Cave of Endless Wonders
before the sky ripped open
and men decided they needed shelter.

Trails of gray and silver
snail their way down the windshield
and last month’s polluted gutter water
washes drink lids up our shoes
and drops gyro wrappers on our heads
as the stars sparkle
in a burgundy sky.