from a couch, that oil well that’s gushing

trained tones

complete control

i wandered off the sidewalk and waited for a reminder that i must be walking alone

i can’t find my phone

reaching in pockets made of mesh

there isn’t hope left

not hope for my phone

just hope

i stuffed her in there forty-one years ago

and since

it’s been a steady trickle leaving my side as i traverse the country on this surprise-ending ride

i left a little in wisconsin

when unions were busted, tested, not trusted, and lost

some spilled in the southern half

as i learned there wasn’t much behind superstitions and football

football superstitions

falling and pointing up when you should grab those around you

i wince when i see a black cat

arizona got a few kernels

while people pick-pocketed my paycheck and i plunged into another drunken night

hope for myself

lost

is still hope

lost

i dumped bags going from here to there

reflecting

i reach into my back pocket

there it is

it looks different than before

dressed in designer clothes disguising the reason i speak up, i got that from you

i dared myself to give you love, i found that myself

hope sits on every shelf towered with books, every kitchen table exchanging life changing looks, classrooms where ideas are shook free from moppy headed children searching for a way to make their world better

i’ll be naked someday

dead

without pockets

you can’t see it in the eyes they wire shut

it’ll remain a mystery

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