naked ground

How does the ground feel without walls,

knowing itself naked, as continuity,

always curving,

eve before the apple.

And with walls?

Clothed to comfort, contest, arrest,

to hide behind...

The red brick wall runs

the estate.

From the car window, as a child

i watched it step the gradient,

like a gun repeating.

"Kerpow!, kerpow!, kerpow!"

it went inside my head,

the bad-lands of my own wild west.

paper collage, studio sketch