I wasn’t sure which way to go
my only purpose that morning was to run into her

i crossed the street and quickly glanced back

she was talking to a man half my age

i rearranged my jacket, stuffed my hands back in my pocket and continue walking

where did she go after the glow of a nighttime show

a fixture 

i turned left, stopped, shuffled out a cigarette and put it behind my ear

anxiously knowing i couldn’t stand here, between her and there

i ducked into a low lit after hours gym i asked for the time, used the bathroom, and headed back to the spot we met

other feet now filled the space where we stepped closer to feeling our place

i leaned against the building, threw one shoe up with a bent knee, retrieved my cigarette, looked around, then four inches out, igniting and exhaling

she consumed me

an exact infatuation of her habits

how did she get groceries?

i conversed with her with every inhale about the inane detail of our afterlife

she didn’t believe in death

i knew her voice, it sheltered me the nights i couldn’t break free from my own ruminating thoughts of days i forgot to pay attention to the other ones who enjoyed the joy i bought

the rain started

a last exhale, i pushed off the wall and started to head home. 

He didn’t like it when i told him it wasn’t raining

it was an affront to his senses

obvious

the umbrella was less about rain

and more about being remembered

he walked away

scraaaaaapppppe dit dot scraaaaaape

a rhythm wearing down the point

he turned around 

lifted his finger at me

and said 

‘you, you are what drives me to ready myself for rain.’

he turned back around 

shook his shoulders

and walked on

it’s then she bumped into me

all of twenty-three and holes in her knees

upon closer examination

black ink swirls decorate the worn out denim

‘sorry…ugh’ she swirled to untangle the unintentional wrangle

‘it’s fine’ 

she stopped

‘i know you don’t i’

inches from my face

cigarette and coffee laced

if it wasn’t chance this would be our embrace

‘i um’

stepping back to regain my bubble

‘yah maybe, i’m…’

her eyes crystallized and bloodshot with living

blue

she hesitated ‘yah, you’re that guy. you sell hotdogs on 5th right?’

i put my head down with a half grin positioned my hands in my pocket, met her eyes sideways and walked away

‘wait’ she said as a question

i kept moving

with wonder and amaze we waltzed around summer days handing everyone we knew something for the new craze a bed ridden silence lifted by the far off memory of slipping into a summary of reel to reel moments spliced together fragments when noticing your belly button pushing out

it’s then i ceased to doubt

that times alone would be forgotten 

drifting cotton wood in a sea of rotten souls someone grab the bowls and fill our senses with something other than this killing a mass everything super size my diamond ring we are dulled blow it up just to see just to hear a touch so rough it causes fear and smells of the dead take over the night the bitterness of that past bite that left my left jaw aching he warned us about jeremy and what it would take to turn the world black to lift this weight of piled up bodies in containers at sea floating off to a new found destiny where we no longer can imagine the possibility of creating some greater legacy of hope and it’s that word that binds us as human the thread that weaves through civilizations buried below or swaying with the breeze we need to seize the cord and pull together or die.

she doesn’t want to go i understand and sometimes demand too much from the one whose hand is full of heart as right from the start we knew she carried a different part in our lives with the rain that poured down this fragmented fall day 

mom is away and in another direction a friend fell to fade as city lights pass by i want to shelter this cry and it’s sneak attacks moments i couldn’t predict washing the dishes i’m met with a pin prick to the cornea flooded with images not of you, you pulled the trigger and now i have to figure which way i’ll take this and i tried the destructive route with little success cause this happiness keeps finding me in times of distress it’s learning it’s burning and fuel is forever found in the above ground play pit never to sever cause here with cascading melodies sauntering over valley floors lifting until we can’t hear anymore just feel the sonic symphonic blast of cool air hymns washing our forgiven forays into folly that we volley to test the waters of love and chagrin come in its warm it’s cold it’s nothing i’m told its where you belong, and where you’ll behold all that is.   

it’s curious the turns we take when wishing we never knew the mistake that came when you left for the sake of others carrying on and wishing we could bake one last candle into that cake with a song 
where do we stand with the ones we’ve touched do we listen enough to know the truth the place where spirit lives and isn’t removed that sweet spot in every soul needing ears not hand shake goals the way we communicate to get our needs is it good enough to continue to feed this real human being bouncing in all of us to succeed as people who fight and fuck and bleed can’t we see one another for what we are reflections of the whole who have gone too far into their own place trying to erase this magical string you could weave and trace through humanity without forgotten souls i am all of you a fraction of the whole humming and moving through evening strolls knowing our time will come when we will roll through to the next plain i hope i leave a legacy like you to explain that love is key, and emotions aren’t to feign. 

Methods used to light the fuse for
adolescent views that were often confused 
really needing a person like you to use 
they turned, knowing you would swivel and
hear them for who they were not just
another voice distorting to a blur
How many people did you touch
a supporting crutch
yearning to help understand with your
nodding head and a ‘hey man’
everyday you’ll come to mind
someone to keep me from going blind

how could i forget running around with a candle stick singing with elton about the blues or flexing my muscle in deep synth tussles discussing my sweet dreams with annie, then along came bob who planted the seeds of lyrics transforming a society, with lou shuffling by telling me why it’s hard to give a shit but that everything will be all right with the sound of tea while a cat dissected the reality of family and needing more than a smile to get by, robert leaned in the perfect spin for when my preteen heart got broken, so jane says when perry sold me to addiction and what to think about in the shower with mould, jr. dinosaurs, forberts, psychedelic furs, chains of jesus, mary and monks sliding into a jam band phunk with dead souls not gogol’s but bobbing heads and clothes made with our own thread a panic sometimes traversing the country to feel sublime until we were stroked back to reality with icelandic melody, national pride welcoming three minute songs and tearful car rides while miles benjamin anthony robinson dug in and died and palmer played to the tide of being bigger on the inside i stretch these days sometimes in a kid bop station though i’ll be damned they’ll know the relation of crosby, young and NWA to a nation. thanking the four as i close this door knowing there are so many more who helped me when i hit the floor with minor threats and cirlcle jerks that made me not go berserk. a handful of eminems transformed my body to me again away from the sin of every country anthem i swayed away yet go back today to tammy, haggard, williams and cash. that’s my last dash, i thank you all i’m here today because of your gall to share your experience as i traverse mine. Yes! there are so many more of you in line. 

he looked across the hall and noticed a tiny speck of something on the wall. it was nothing and he moved on, dragging his umbrella and whistling your wedding song …

thursday afternoon it was brought up too soon how you’re going to regulate my use of the moon knowing that’s not something we should talk about around elf ears and shuffling feet the tension rises with the heat they hear ridiculing roars that funnel through floor boards and echo around picture-less walls and down stomped halls huddling at the top of stairs where do we go from here. start stop go stay it’s night morning wednesday friday easter i see the wear on faces that tare away at bunny suits we thought were cute until you pushed mute on my pursuit 

my lips moving you’re filling in words running around dotted lines you dashed with yourself years ago now go and guide other guilds that need to build something you’ll live in even though you told them you were free and i’ll stand in the shadow cast by that sight seeking to get into one last fight to feel the push of your breath poisoning my face the last taste of common ground that can’t be found when we know we shouldn’t be around areas aching with another angry shoe tie it’s how we get by if death came easily then it was hard to wake and understand the more you take tickles every trader ever touched by that time you knew the words i shared were ours and i heard them bouncing, echoing in the courtyard where we first saw the day wasn’t too much.

you used them with someone else now

why’d you look, after i called?

stand inside the ring of sound and tell me without blinking where I can be found on rooftops slipping without a rope or a hand 

…

teetering to stay sane in this land of sheltered egos and backpack plans stealing a map from that worn out man with wrinkles set from questioning without sound doubt shriveled his face yet he still comes around to see what you are doing 

carry along this road without hope a desperate terrace lays outside this yolk walking the fields full of consciousness that you have been through to see your son or your brother’s family and cronies collect on cool fall days when he is willing to take and say the words you need to keep rolling through this cell that captures every situation you could detail in shitty pen ink that stops and goes 

mostly drawing circles and then you froze is it worth the time to pencil you in to sharpen this blade razor thin on the edge of your feet we meet. strip yourself tonight i need to think

…

she didn’t care if i laughed

it was a stupid joke i must admit if i stared straight faced she’d still replace the reaction i should have had or she thought should be there with a shrug and that cold pupil stare lifting my senses while deadening my lenses fogging my better self while continuing to engulf the whole rest of what we found on the shelf 

Over analyze these quick lies that polarize and stigmatize the faulty sense of kitchen table size and who sits next to you when the day is done wishes and dreams that weigh a ton as i look in their eyes and come undone with what is illuminated by the sun yet it’s not time to get up and run i’ll be here sunday afternoons blowing balloons to celebrate being and new phases of the moon i’ve been too quick lately judging your seeking, peaking through ideas and finding an identity. we’re butting heads, i need to stop and nod have patience and plod through this period with you that’ll bring about a whole new way to communicate about laughter and your first date accepting what you reflect in the world and those who’ll be influenced by and seek our little girls. i watch you move, listen and think it’s hard to imagine you with your own kitchen sink blinking at the mirror and seeing quite clear the beauty you have in every dropped tear and smile received and heartache grieved, who can believe what trail you’ll walk and who you meet know we’re there with a waiting seat at that table you knew with your little feet 

thankfully, we all have time to revel closely in you two. just preparing. 

i think i found your keys 

they were left under my couch and must have slipped out of your pocket when you got up yesterday afternoon after telling me goodbye too soon and destroying that pop tune we listened to as sunrise hit our room it was the way i thought about shakespeare you said i had a limited view i knew names just not who did what and when where truth stood still and where to begin if fighting in back alleys was something i’d consider it made me uneasy the way you’d figure when we’d meet, which candidate to unseat and the tempo crash of our first dance beat as if to tell me there’s something not right a tiny angel sat to the right while i watched my mind finally drain into that pool of sundries and washed away rain insane i thought i’ve lost it again then i found your keys

so i ran downstairs