It all just went...
Sideways
Can't walk forward
Can't walk back
On spinning
Sidewalks
A tightrope
Filled with slack

A blindfold
Made of glass
And some nails
Made of grass
And the empty bottles
Filling up the dump
Too fast

A one-armed scissor
Salted candy
Skinless fruit
A beach too sandy
And we'd all
Be feeling dandy
But this world
Just went...
Sideways

I used to make this exotic Indian dish.
It combined so many spices—like cardamom,
coriander, and a hard
pulpy substance called tamarind that I
soaked in hot water and used only the juice.
It was a giant Middle Eastern stew.
It was half science and half art.
It was math at its best,
generally, I despise math.
It smelled so foreign and exotic,
it contrasted with the wife and 2.3
kids placed neatly around the dinning room
table, waiting on
the finishing touches,
sprigs of fresh
cilantro tossed atop each bowl.
An Indian bread called naan was dipped
in the stew—it was wonderful, amazing.
The wine—smiles—laughter,
I can still smell it and taste it.
And now,
on lonely winter nights,
my take-out tandoori chicken
smells like a T.V dinner.

There are whispers

Suffocating rumors

Tomorrow's deep pockets are full of sand

We hold power in our hands like water

No containment

Fear must fall in drops and settle into streams

Drink it up

Feel it in your thirst

Feel it tighten 'round your throat

That city never saw it coming

They sat upon the highest ledges,
Watching the storm rage below

That old deli on the corner of Main,
It always had a little arcade machine,
Street Fighter I think

Even Johnnie's tattoo shop,
Got swept away with gutter water,
And the tire store near Nick's

We couldn't do nothing,
Just watch the raging waters,
Tearing away my childhood;
All that beautiful
And ugly graffiti paint,
A backdrop of my memories

And when it was done,
Most everyone cheered

They cheered the coffee shops,
Applauded the free range grocers,
And kissed every brick;
Building a wall,
Around my memories

Who knew the river,
That same Cheyenne I loved,
Ran through barefoot,
Drank the runoff water,
And laughed in the warm swirls,
Would **** it all

I will mourn,
Each and every brown stone,
Chalk-stained sidewalk,
And homeless man,
Who would buy a fifth,
In exchange for a dime of ****

No one ever looked twice,
When my McDonald's cup,
Turned blue;
The bottom dropping out,
As alcohol eats all the edges

The city that was once mine,
Is now to be yours,
And someone else's,
Right as you get comfortable

True destruction,
Ain't got no target,
Nor does progress,
Far as I can tell.