Mike Scharf @ sustainable aircraft ...

Second Schädel

The land’s a pocket mirror; you like to hold it down

and catch flashes of yourself.

It’s teeming. Greenpoint burns off its relations.

It’s a rimless procession: the sun, unbound but forced to sphere,

tentacles marble, an absorptive French blue, with particles

rising and falling in tandems, lolling in arcs.

Walking past the plant on Meserole, foot

blanket tangles and lips come down, calcium white.

Steam comes out the windows. It smells of perc...