No-Man’s Land

All the silver buildings tower

Over the palm trees
And clouds sit atop them
Like smoke.
Their metal walls
Must be sizzling
In the heat.
The more I stare,
The more out of place
They appear.

Silver and black clashes
Against aqua and white.
The tensions rises
To a war.
The tan sand
Is a no-man’s land.

If zero were a place,
It would be right along the shore,
Negative extending
Toward the buildings,
Positive pushing
Toward the ocean.

Zero is my favorite number.
I can be nothing
Or I can just be,
With no weight attached,
No need to be
Anything in particular.

I lie in the sand
And close my eyes.
I can’t see the war
Anymore.