Wet Cardboard

Soggy flaps pressed tight,

layers curling under rain’s slow drip.

I step, and it cracks—

a dull crunch beneath worn soles,

the smell of damp mildew

clings like a dirty secret.

Ridges, torn and swollen,

tell stories in flattened waves,

a city’s castoffs

sobbing softly by the brick wall.

No one stops to gather

these soaked remains,

just me, crouched, tracing

fingers over soggy ribs,

wishing for something rigid

in the loose collapse.