Falling in return

the window leisure of the forensic gas station
is falling in return for our orphaned forethoughts
trouble on the short-end of the awaiting resemblance
with grocery cart railways like a valley of cementing
crooked stomach lining windows returning for
adroit hopes where tressel fear-stalemate curtains
like the least of us, like the most of us
cradled and upturned to a sky of satellite melodies