Katy Freeway
Station
Past
a spot under a glistening canopy
cars
off the Katy Freeway decades
apart
space a station
fragments
gas with fuel pumps
cards
flash through readers
driving
away hearts that I saw
as
living forms are quickly gone
concrete
oil drip stains
remain
The
City grows measuring itself with time
where
Euclidean shapes built
prefer
90 degree angles
and
trendy pastels
flirt
at structural tensors beyond-
those
of destruction that first overtake nature’s
lush
dreams crowding a prairie's cactus
Buildings
demolished like a timed storm-wave
reach
renewal of sunset west
like
an explorer conquering Katy
fuel
hoses gushing nozzles
even
as I grew older
Every
young stranger’s well-gassed
fueled
and flies
performing
the same ritual
as
the century retools
through
glaring lights down the on-ramp
into
darkness
A
vacant field exists only in memory now
visited
by a tornado
tearing
apart steel roof anachronisms
from
anything meaningful
besides
mountainous dream-structures
sheltering
a fossil fuel sanctuary
where
passing strangers are recurrent thoughts
fueling
lifetimes
never
to return.
