Zoning Laws

The bucket was yellow and the plastic was cracked,

but the towers were perfect,

wet sand packed tight into cylinders

that looked like they could actually hold something up.

The girl was five feet away,

digging a moat with a rusted spoon,

when the jogger came through

with his high-tech earbuds and his acid-green laces.

He didn't even break his stride.

One heavy, rubberized tread

came down in the center of the keep,

flattening the ramparts into a gray sludge.

He didn't look back to see the blueprint fail,

or the way she just sat there,

holding her spoon like a weapon

she didn't know how to use.