tiny

tiny cube of jello over midtown. high above. the skyscrapers can not touch it. they look like spiky hair from here. the cube floats on its own field of imagined energy. there they are, people, tiny people, there is it carnegy hall. there is broadway, there is the park. the cube floats towards the park, enjoys a stream of good will. layers upon layers of good intention. slowness. it will stay here. slow motion. no hurry, no gravity. move on city, move on.