That's the Fall of Falling

I went into a town called Listening.

the green was very stern.
roots told ages of brown dirt that dreamed of soil.
clouds were settled and blunt.
topics were incremental, like human entrophy.
pink orange and red tried to murder the ensuing coast.
stop lights weren't reasonable.
the collision between prices included people.
anything viable went stutter.
elegiac became the patio.
the town had rights and left.
suddenly somebody is nobody better than the time it takes to say so.
parklands went distribe, and fluffy animals.
toil was expressed as words.
words were expressed as downtown.
children flew famously to ponds and irrigation ditches.
limply laden modes of viewing simply simply.