Shark Eyes Roll Into The Back of Their Heads When They Eat
by Christian Michael Filardo

I try to describe the pyramids to a blind man
It’s somewhere between a landmark and a shape
When I arrive in the city the sky opens up
Shark week is the perfect time of year to move
We buy ugly houses billboard here too
Rain splashes into a pothole reflecting the red vape sign back into the universe
The light will travel on forever
All the men with impotent style fumble by with little dogs
Telling someone you like walking isn’t flirting
Supposedly the necessary human functions have become the divine
One night and I have become a question
Something like shattering a snow globe
Essentially it’s a bunch of blocks that make a triangular prism
They are opaque in the middle of the desert
Some of them were tombs
Rumor has it they were filled with traps and treasure
Sort of like my personality
Imagine sliding down them in the snow
Snow is just sand that vanishes
Vanishing without vision is quiet

Christian Michael Filardo was rollerblading to school in Phoenix, Arizona on September 11, 2001. They watched the Notre Dame collapse on a television screen at an airport in Charlotte, North Carolina. They are a poet, photographer, and composer currently living in Bushwick, Brooklyn, New York.