Wile Coyote Might Have Finally Gotten Away With It

Parallel apartment to mine, across the street
Ivory splattered in grand detail
A spread of onyx contrasts the sidewalk in a minor fashion
Not more than 52 steps it took me get a closer look
Only 36 seconds before I could hover over the cadenza

Plain, lightly stained birch is splintered gracefully
In-between the cracks of concrete
And on top of yesterday’s funnies
Not another soul looms to view the remains, I the sole
One wondering “if no one was around to hear it, did it make a sound?”

Positive gravity conducted it down like a symphony
I guess from the 9th story
A window directly facing mine; where it used to be housed
No Acme label to be seen, so my
Overture, my inquiry is invalid

“Where will the Road Runner fly by next?”
Still, I look down the barren asphalt
Hoping to see a flash of purple