Pinprick thoughts.

Color it any shade, it stands in silhouette an absence of space.  A monolith that stretches up to the sky and back, winding stairways hugging tight and twisted 'round the frame.  All metal too, dull and painted over so the sunshine won't scatter and reflect, but it still gets burning hot come noon.  This year it is red.  The city thought it would be nice to have it red, so they paid to have it re-painted.  Last year it was blue, blending in more with the sky that backdrops it from any angle you look at it from.  Always looking up at it, the towering sight of it that pulls the head back until a beam of sun squints your eye and turns your head away.  Nobody ever talks of taking it down, though the notion has to be in there somewhere.  It takes up the hill, the prime hill for basking in the sun or standing in the breeze, but everyone moves around it.  Nobody takes the trip up it in the mornings, before it melts plastic and leather and chips the paint with the expanding metal.  Nobody gets the view of the ground full of people staring up at it, up towards it is more correct.  You stop seeing it, that tower, after a while and start seeing the sky.  A big blue expanse, sometimes cloudy, sometimes windy, with a large negative space in the center of it.  I realized this after a gallery put up some art that was just the silhouette, the tower left a blank white while the rest was filled in with almost photographic detail in paints.  The clouds were a bit wrong.  I looked at it like that too, looked past it like that.  Next year it might be blue again, or green.  The paint chips away quickly.  It can't be left unpainted though, offices start noticing it then, saying that it throws off too much light in the day.  They don't like the way it becomes an object when it shines.  It puts on clothes to cover itself up, a modesty we force upon it.  No nudist building colonies or nudist artwork colonies for it to leave to.  Someone might try to make that joke in a grand way, but it would still leave the building sitting there.  Damn.  Just like that I'm done.  It was a good sandwich today, ate it up quick on the bench here.  Sandwiches and the tower.  No sandwich to eat, no more tower to look past, to think at.  Work to be done though.  Deals to be made and weighed.  People to meet who may or may not have wondered about this to themselves, puzzled over the giant pointless point.  And it doesn't matter either way to the world anyhow.