it's L.A. i made my way across the sidewalks, wondering how much of the particulate matter in the air today is a courtesy of China, hands swinging, thoughts swimming, the bridge of my nose sweating beneath the weight of tortoise shell sunglasses. color scheme, not literally. i'm not cruel. the thought of sea turtles aplenty, spanning from ship to land in every direction, enough to walk across, straddles my mind as I cross the dirty asphalt of a dirty city. the heat of the sun, of the day, melting the tar and the rubber of my soles as they meet, mixing and mingling, the dripping tainting the ground as my feet and hands fluctuate in consistency, melting too. I am wax and my fingers drip away in great globs, splattering across still semi-solid fractions of heated earth. the heat invades my head, and my eyes go liquid as fluid thoughts leak from my nose and down my throat, tickling my tongue in its humid home. i walk in molten contemplation of the world before me, a future unknown.