i’ve always been interested in the places behind
the facades and screens of industry
the places where the structure of spectacle and appearance
sits like a child’s jungle gym in the sun
crossed 2 by 6’s with red stain fading
and aluminum c-channels full of spider webs
while in front a model’s face begins to peel and flap
like so many vibrant promises that never begin
when all we’re given is a copy written grin
as i climb the warped braces behind her eyes
i imagine decades of fake smiles
that sad sad weight just sagging down
into the ground
