Barefoot in the street
Toes stubbed and scratched from wicked
Concrete.
The chill of fall carries
The waning sunlight into the trees.
It turns their leaves
Red as wine,
Killing them with beauty.
Voices carry
But they reveal nothing.
Everyone sees the boy in the road
Taking a photograph
And then walking off
Alone.
By the time the sky has dimmed
Everything is
Just beginning.
Where is the promise of
painful truth and
the bitter surprise
of comfort?
Don’t let it catch
You sleeping
While the real daydream
Has come.

The story begins
With
Just a touch of
The color
Red.
It was meant to be
A
Tall tale
Told by old men
And bright
Children.
Heroes
And lovers
Late nights
And springtime.
I’m sorry
For your silence
I only meant
For you to
Remember
The time
You could have had
Singing beneath
Balloons.

Her arm carries
The compass rose
Pointing North, South, East
And Best of all
Is her
Soft mutter in
Between cigarettes.
In a darkened
Bar on main street
She sat still
Enough to **** me.
2 in the morning
I gave her
Waffles
syrup
And a kiss.
I tried to push
Her further
And it only pushed
Her out
The door.
More than ever
I want more.