In the head rush I saw the carpet ...

In the head rush
I saw the carpet numbers, and the numbers
of all provisionss were networked,
and the modified plants grew in consequence of veins
of strangers and completeed a welcome
I dizzily knew to be unwell,

even sick. I know that I require
sun to swell and without sun
I swell beaten down as trees marked for culling:
the pink crosse that fluoresce in nightlights
so quick, or chapfallen dots of the savage pruning.

It's not place I'm of; the rash where the bandaid stuck
the modular narrative of airports and flight,
global positioning about the clod not clouds.
There's a place called