Posts tagged ‘Como’

August 18, 2015

gnats in the wine

chewing it over—for what it’s worth;
last night’s me in southeast, and
the now going—nothing if not present,
on along como. proof in breath,
change the set. focus, and
then content with content.
the blinker light orange clicks,
the cracked window let’s cool air in.
if morning is broken, how shall we fix it?
fixating on what’s been given—so gifted.
and that taste in your mouth, and
that frown on your face—those things can be
given away. over 280 at about 30 and
it’s barely 7:40. midday convo mid-moment;
spit-balling my life, just a thought: let’s talk.
then everything will be all right.

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April 20, 2015

Commute Home through Como

On a home commute lately,
on Como Avenue’s length,
under streetlamp’s orange presence,
with blurred trucks and cars,

where sleeping neighborhoods
and empty industry wait;

I am moving between point A and point B,
I am alone in the dark nodding hello
to the stoplights changing,
empty storefront’s grey,
and mounting sidewalk debris.

Still some bars glow,
still long trains roll.

Coming to me are night smells
of dried hay—ironic spring,
careless weed smoke blown,
and fabric softener exhaust—all biking home.

Lost in darkened new elements
under low heavens, star speckled skies,

lately through Como,
on a commute between two cities,
resting local economy,
where sparkling broken glass
is scattered—reflect, a sight,
in clouded purple shade
of night, no sun, to my eyes, and going home.

August 18, 2014

flat tires have transpired

Witness: flat tires have transpired;

U-lock and steel wires- cables,

odds and ends, curses,

fixed up again, pole stance.

 

Como commute now,

she sits near Black window-

steam, heat, and coffee aroma…

running to- somehow.

 

Girls stand at the bus stop bench

asking, ever simple

questions of schedules

and Joe’s market view edibles.

 

On! this box with wheels,

Alternatives- let it go.

 

Running thru humid air

Nalgene splash uneven

Hot breaths, punctual care

Step by step to there.

 

Flat tires have transpired.

Days described disrepair. 

July 8, 2014

Commuting on Como

Up,
Pedaling through
Como Avenue.

Alongside shared-living apartments
Neon-signs cluttered storefronts.

Following is
the
summer sun,
heat,
and sweat.

7 years ago I was more acquainted
There was so much to forget.

There was sun and snow,
Heartbreak and elation,
Sex and lies, good times;
Things called by other names, situations.

Past trees which grew
Broken glass from bottles drunks threw
Stand lampposts which haven’t moved
These quiet streets, home for rocks, sand, and dust- below shoes.

Maneuvering, wondering if the old neighbors were still alive.

Winter stuck in a basement
Bright light outside
Warm only within
-Hiding eyes behind dingy broken blinds.

Father stopped in around Christmastime
I was with a she who left like the wind.

Found in moments betting on the weather.

Two doves,
A cat,
Empty bottles,
Trash amassed; pieces of me mixed between.

Now I ride by this old familiar place.

Remembering,
Biking,
Thinking,

How did this town get so small?
How did I get so big?

***
She once said: biking is the best way to learn the city; Minneapolis is the biggest small town around.

November 12, 2013

Sorority Girl Trash

Follow splashing trash goop.

This proves a stinky stench remembrance upscale neighborhood.

 

Sorority Row-near Como.

 

A black liquid slimed along the pavement.

 

Aroma to high heaven alerts my senses,

External cost of who shall remain unmentioned, nameless.

 

Closed windows, narrowly drawn minds;

Bright skimpy clothes hang along a limp clothes line.

 

But, hey, this is outside.

 

Looking towards that glowing orb in the skies-

As I ride by.

 

In all that haze…

 

All these thoughts, yet there is only one thing holds my mind-

I can’t be late this time.

 

Consumption is a problem in so many ways…

October 12, 2012

AM Minneapolis (Before Five in the Morning)

Shaken from slumber by the semblance of an early morning dance.

The darkside of a lunar wane exposed; the heavens stretch forever as our necks bend to accommodate our vantage.

 

Scratched backs, cars drive by as I imagine their muffled sound in the future snows.

They remind me of thoughts from the past.

 

Black but blue, the shades of everything at this time seem new.

Coffee is a distant thought, breakfast is truly morning food at this time, moments are lost.

It is before 5 am and I do rule this city.

Boss.

 

All is fleeting faster in the vast darkness.

I ride down Franklin thoughts of yelling Powerderhorn, or Southside!

 

She says I need brighter bike lights, she doesn’t mention my intellect.

Off to support, the girls, the ladies, the babies.

 

We don’t know, she can’t go.

She did.

 

Met yesterday and spent the night in it.

Met yesterday near Chicago as she exited the bus.

 

Looked for a blond, but I found a brunette.

Surprise-surprise.

 

Minnesota desolate, again, the end of summer hinting of fall and enlightenment.

Leaves stripped from trees to come, forgetting of the heat, lying in the slum.

Pulling the AC out as if removing a splinter.

Ready for winter.

 

From before, I stand in front of her door on the sidewalk as she rides away.

Days are number, I guess that is true for all of us.

 

Getting along like no other, forgetting reality as lovers.

Good food and good preparation, the beauty of aggression transpired temptation…

No agitation.

 

Few on bike, some with heads down, a couple of nods.

Most are nodded off.

 

People walking, small talk, sharing little light and little thought.

The cool breeze reminds me of my thoughtfulness as I pull out a coat.

 

Certainly we must think ahead.

Or think again.

Or we just don’t.

 

He and she look for release, coming back from vacation I sit down and listen with patience.

I realize everything I need is here, I suppose that is anywhere and everywhere I go.

 

She says I am so one sided, I tell her I just don’t see it that way.

 

My thoughts run, a week ago my thoughts menaced my days.

No more tears, just happiness for what is near.

 

She left and came back, like the bird with the olive branch, like that story about a dove.

Life happens, but when it happens think less hate and more love.

 

This summer is naught only for loss, like live and let go.

I built a fire on the beach, I came to drunk on your porch while you kissed me.

However, you know.

 

Those  stars we saw earlier  that day next to the moon were Jupiter and Venus.

 

Momma’s got the squeeze-box and Daddy never sleeps at night.

You had me singing Here Comes the Sun before day break.

 

You were my guide, leading me to the bus with frosted windows on the journey home.

You sat in the grass smoking cigarettes in the sun, while milling over my finances and telling me everything would be okay.

 

Daily thoughts are of you.

That is how I make my way.