Fall sweep

when he used to hang at the park

in the late afternoon

I never talked to him

I only watched while he tear

Turns out the ground

or whatever's around

All his wheels would slide out

but he'd stay cool

I knew the guy that they once

called the shredder it's true

and I watched the day fade

on the ramp that we made

and I asked myself

where should I go now

A new wave has dawned

and the novelty's gone

so I'm told

and what kind of turn

would I now need to learn

to keep up when I'm feeling

so slowed down

I might feel better

if I knew the shredder felt old

but I see the sunset

on the lump that I get

in my throat

that I get when I try to tell

A story it grows

like a parking lot goes on the ground

And if the shredder's still shredding

I feel like forgetting

I ate his dust long ago

He may remember

but somehow I doubt

that he knows