Hangin’ Rock

Me and Elmer and Al.
Which will remember?

Grunting and blowing,
sawhorse scaffolds,
that awkward weight
atop our head, flopping.
Who will remember?

Blond wooden staffs,
a wall in empty space,
necks straining.

The singular point;
the button on the ball-cap
when we arch 
into the ceiling.

— C.D. Moore