From a forest of standing orders, Western Larch and Douglas fir, violated by Italian beechwood bolts drawn from Leonardo's pen and Howe's adjustable truss entering a dream of tall structures felled by the mathematics of skeletal design within the radius of hemorrhaging signs—

marks the spot
where wings were
pinned to history's
cruel door.


A bridge on which the Beasts of Voltage step up their myths of ancient wizardry, ionizing covenants, railroads the Buddha of Present Events.