Cities And Memory

"Then we heard the grass blades bending under the laziest hoovesbut they know how slow they should be grazing at noon Then we heard the pine twigs snapping under bare feet and fresh blisters forming from the here and now because they know how fast good pain turns to fluidThen I heard the tallest reeds breaking under boots of rubber and I couldn’t help but think of the 87 months it took those barks to become adult because they know when they’re ready to bleedIt’s when the man’s hands form the cup for the milk to rest and sit and wait and stop moving because they both know how long fluid turns solid so it can stretch and bend and stretch and bend again between hardened hands of fewer grooves than blistersBut the blisters didn’t know when that large cylinder would come to move things along and the man became two and they learnt each others’ names as they rolled and compressed and rolled and compressed again until the rubber was already rubber and the blisters were gone because the hands became idle while the cy