Everywhere I go
and everyone I know
are parts of me
and the places between,
from summer sun,
to winter snow;
from the top of bluffs
to the valleys below,
they are carried with me
as everything I know.
They are parts of me,
parts of a whole.
Everywhere I go
Motion reflected between where you are and where you will be;
Void for a shadow where you were, ever lying in wait to reconvene.
Barefooted feet sounded aloud the carpeted hallway,
Where people passed in sunlight of a side window view;
Forms drew on, each bearing a different meaning—each,
New reason passed by, as all parts came meshed true.
Sour leather bands synched
in a veiled humidity,
swam this Midwestern oven,
doggy paddle for fluid strokes.
Rolled windows on St. Anthony
caught a trash truck soup
of faintly fanned aroma sweet
under parted clouds;
cloy cutting, putrid, pungent,
unforgettably at the tip of your tongue,
in the holes of your nose.
Fumes came from plastic bags ripped
and cardboard boxes smashed
telling of domestic unimagineables,
making way to the forefront,
and not leaving soon.
pushing through the city;
parts of me, parts of you—
the powers of summer heat sparked
a sickening knotted perfume,
lingering in the air,
in these communities tight knit.
Slowing my advance
the smell of fresh dew
on bending grass,
deeply rich, as pubic loin,
coming up into me.
Passing chance is a pedestrian
at another drink,
to sup, to taste—to figure:
Beyond what affords
the wires and cords,
the libations of vibrations—in pocket and lapel;
consorts of sorts:
eyes to see to tell,
caught in a room, in a shell.
Here it is running between sharp teeth,
between punch in and punch out,
the texture expands on the tip of tense tongue,
to drown the drain
in the welcome back of a dry desert throat,
where we once spoke.
Yesterday’s sun had taken all proof
of what there was to own:
the house, the car, the student loans, the mobile phone.
Every drop of hydration
was taken from placement.
And then that orb went away
with the dying day,
to blackest night,
to come back and drop what it lacked,
to give what it had taken away.
these droplets of life,
here on fine grass, stay,
for all to gleam as they pass.
Seeing yard for a blade.
Seeing hours for a wait.
Bearing witness to its presence,
to this small existence, to little menace.
Taken its smell,
dew on these forms,
forms on this ball,
lit up by yellow orb,
spinning, rolling, coming down,
into finite points,
magnified and reflected,
encapsulating each particle universal,
directly into you.
A most minute sense,
it was almost unbearable
to enter that building
on this day.
A wavy reflection at the Dunn Bros. storefront up Como
left me marveling at open beauty,
left me a helplessly stumbling fool,
left short words of: I am not from around here,
left a lady in a little black dress with a thick accent saying,
“Cheers!” and walking on.
Inside I palmed a hot cup of coffee
with new found direction,
“thanks man”, I said, as I dropped a buck into his tip jar,
after he had scrolled his iphone for the address of our location.
I went outside again, to help.
Gray skies had left her gone as I stood puzzled in the space
of thick fonted glass at a doorway threshold.
I thought of how useless I was to a foreigner as my liquid cooled.
How American of me,
I am not from around here, but just down the road.
“If you can’t please yourself, who can?” -Ma
In the morning I start planning,
by the time I am done it is mid-afternoon.
I find that I have all things figured out,
in finding that happiness is without.
When I have specific plans completed,
seen through to fruition, I can only hope for one thing:
that I still feel as good as I do when I just open my eyes,
young, in love, and surrounded by it-
when I just walk outside—lost and uncaring,
when I do the first thing that comes to mind, even today,
now, to escape. I hope to still feel as good as I do right now,
with no excess in what I have about me, and there, no excuses,
because none of those institutions will change anything, ever.
Not one. They only complicate and muck up straightforward.
Fuck plans. It is how you feel when you feel you in the end.
I hope to feel as good as I do when I wake up
in the morning, before I start planning.