Rooftopping Sam Szanto
mask on, seagulling to the pillar, back to glitter the city, music bombastic promotional climbing boots in shot foot dangling off the rooftop, snap snap, the selfie is king, he’ll go viral like in lockdown, four million hits his towerblocked mother saw it might get it now, how he’s teetering on the edge of fame overshadowing the others doing what they proclaim to be the same fifteen thousand followers on Instagram the moon’s pale face gazing at him the clouds rapturous, if he falls likes will raise him up again although no one knows his name throwing off his mask, he screams Will you look at me?
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