Yesterday I fell asleep in class
There was a soft humming
Coming from the heater
A girl was chewing gum
And the professor kept talking
And clicking on the PowerPoint

I dreamt of Greenland
How funny was it
That the Vikings fibbed
But if they were here today
It wouldn't matter

I dreamt of my feet
Walking on rusted earth
Warm and arid
Comforting and challenging
Leaving silt on my soles
As the sun beat down
Bleaching my hair


I dreamt of bazaars and crowds within them
Bartering, staring, leaning
Turmeric coloring hands
Cinnamon choking the streets
Fathers teaching their sons
How to run the business

I dreamt of cold fogs
In San Francisco
Sticking under my eyes
And under my clothes
Towering green
On top of steep cliffs
Still yet ready to evolve
Reminders of my hometown
Of loud sirens and higher ground
Prayers for the parking break

I dreamt of snowfall in the city
In the dank steam rising
From the manholes and the sewers
The palms all frozen and weeping
The sea softly still
The beach deserted
The crowds piled into cafes
Rubbing their hands
Fiddling with Chapstick

I dreamt of the broken White House fences
Of small eyes turned downward
Of everyone screaming
Of my conscience ringing
A bell
It was too late for us from the beginning

I awoke
The professor kept clicking
The girl had spit out her gum

Looking up,
Tonight I had seen the stars
They pulled at me
Like my muscles pulled for my legs
To sit the **** down and quit
Straining them and myself
So much

You blew out smoke
And I inhaled
My own trepidation
And loneliness
That had been floating in the air
Since the sun was up

You went home
And I stayed
Outside
Inside
In the cold
And in the hot hot heat

Looking for your face in the crowd

The lights went out
When I was sipping my water
When we sat outside
In the backyard of the restaurant
You were listening to me speak
About my brother and my parents
And how I was worried that he felt
As alone as I did
When I was a kid
And you stared at me in concern
And nodded along

I loved the taste of the peppers
And I noticed them growing above you
Right by the stairs
That were covered in vine
With rickety wood
That probably gave the owner splinters
The same woman who told me that she
Got out of jury duty
Because she was biased
Because she was held at gun point
Not once
But twice
And that she wished she could return the favor


And when the lights went out
There was a stillness
And a second of quiet
And I looked up
To see infant stars sprinkled between the clouds
That were stranded above the city
Still tinged with remains of lavender
From the early sunset

And maybe
It would have been easier
If we believed in anything
If god itself could reach out
And pop each bulb
Like little balloons
And caress our cheeks
When we felt scared
Or isolated

And maybe it would have spared us
Some resentment
Or given us a break
For trying to survive
For trying to breathe in a world
Filled with a compassionate cruelty
And a smug sense of undeserved irony
That left an entire generation jaded
Or miserable
Or exhausted


Especially when looking for work
Like I did those years ago
While my father chided me
Cited merit
And integrity
And 'maybe I wasn't trying hard enough'
Yet still had the audacity
To retire young
And complain about it


And maybe
It would have been easier
If instead of apples
We were leaves
That turned into shades of fire
At the end of August
And were carried away
And then reborn
Instead of falling hard
And rotting on the ground


And maybe it would have been easier
Or maybe it wouldn't have
When my mother called me
In the cold air of the early spring
And I could hear her voice cracking
And I had to walk outside
Into the bitter cold
To keep myself from breaking


And maybe it would have been easier
If your parents hadn't loved you
And if my mother never came back
And we would've never met
And you would've never made me laugh
And I would've never had anyone
To call a friend or a sister
The way I call to you


And maybe it would have been easier

But it wasn't
When your mother called you
And told you of the news
And your eyes swelled
And my mouth dried up
And I knew it would never be easy
Since I was very young
But I would be there for you
As you continue to learn the same


And when the lights went out
We felt it
On our own
In our own ways
But we felt it together

Sleepless and Stupid
Sitting inside of a coffee shop
Sipping on something sweet
Silently screaming to yourself
So loud it sounded like singing
Scalding and stinging your throat
Speaking in spanglish to a stranger
Skulking in the alleys of a shopping mall
Starving for sustenance that isn't for purchase

but
Settling for Starbucks anyway

If there was only one small piece of humanity
Left turned inside out on the southern end of the city
It would be yours
….If no one has stolen it by now

The birds would all be trapped under ice
And the singing inside of my ears would echo
Through the concrete haze
And the resounding melody would fill the
Fissures and dunes of distant plains
With distant breathing
Pushing and pulling carbon monoxide, or sulfur
Or whatever they decide to circulate
Into themselves

But they would feel it, also
Distorted and a bit muffled
Quieter than the original
Pulsing and rushing through
While the river dances with anticipation
For the rose skies and the dazzling lights
To be bombarding the strip in synchronicity
Only for a mere 15  

And by the water we would sit like always
Gabbing about the memories that now put dark rings under our eyes
And crevices into our palms
Or saying nothing at all
Only looking forward
Or up
Or down
Or spinning in circles
And pretending to be in a tango with the breeze
That is nowhere to be found
On the island
In the summer

And we would always look at people’s shoes
Most of the time turning up our noses
Yet knowing that adding insult to injury
Is never polite
So I would un-furrow my brow
And hold on to the seat
While you held your head proud and straight
So I would do the same
Because we’re better than that
Though in a silent way
It was known to both
That we didn’t want to be, and it was ok that way
And in the park
In the spring
With the smell of infant chlorophyll and fruit smoothies
Floating and melting into the ground beneath us
Where the rats at night scatter and scavenge
We would laugh and laugh
And taunt
All of those unfortunate kids
Who were stupid enough to stay in school
On such a morning
In such a place  
And miss the look of the square
Or the looks on our faces
Or the delight of our freedom  

And in my tear stained face
And reddened cheeks
You would glance once and like a timer going off
Your voice would soften
And the miniscule lines by your mouth would reappear
And you would tell me that everything would be ok
Even when I was wailing and gasping for air
Your eyes continued to stay next to mine
Just like your hand
Patting my back
And holding my panic stricken mind conscious  
Telling me everything would be ok
In the car
Or the hospital
Or the airport
And every single time
I would genuinely believe you  


So there you are
Feet on the asphalt
Or the tile
Or the wood
Or the sand
Holding yourself steady
Rushing or if necessary, pushing
Always pushing
Because you are better than that
You always were and always will be
Like the river which dances for the sunset
Or the birds that choose to sing and freeze rather than fly for warmth
Or the bridges that ignite at dusk

And I will continue in long strides  
Behind
Or In Front
Or hopefully, one day
Beside
So you can tell me it will all be ok
So I can smile
And laugh at your shoes

There’s a meek sort of rasping
Coming from across the train
With frail marrow and a kind smile
Stitched together by a thread of longing and courtesy
Opaque hues of denim
As murky as the winter sea
Rocked by the motion of the rails
Search the frills of a child’s collar
For the forgiveness only time can give
Her shadowed eyes bore into mine

But as I tried to furnish a reaction
A white skirt blocks my view
And towers over like all of those pretty American buildings
I’ve only seen in tattered pages and cracked voices
Of forlorn faces and war torn memories
And her golden hair is molded by a red ribbon
And her long nails dig into her beige purse
And she stares towards the doors
Biting her lips and passively planning an escape route
As the train pulls to a stop

Then a swarm of moving bodies knock her and numerous more
Into the swell
And out on the platform
Attention is peaked by the two snickering girls
With navy skirts and matching hair bows
The size and color of a setting sun
Who drop their faces and grab their leather portfolios
And sprint out of the closing doors
About to miss their stop

And careful pupils follow their retreating forms
But they are not just my own
As cascading chestnut locks
Frame a plush nose
And a supple body
With a ***** apron around the waist
And folded fingers with crossed calves
A queen living in a pauper’s mirror
While cradling a bag full of bleach and ammonia
Keeping an eye on a basket full of apples

Which keep being searched thoroughly
With small eager palms
From a mother’s lap
With little auburn curls
Blocking out the view of the guardian
Who, with soothing speech, forming lines and dainty features
Reaches out to the child with fruit
And every unspoken word
That she will never hear from her own mother
Teaching her unspoken lessons
Of the distant and sought after dreams of youth and childhood
Which so many want, but so few acquire
Which so many held but had to lose


Like the younger lady
With a book in hold
And a stitched brow
Browsing through the myriad of pages
Ink stained hands frantically flipping through
Each passage, each syllable
Slowly wrapped into information
And passion the color of her hair
And the specks of prolonged sunlight
Dusted upon her cheeks
Which were glowing red with frustration and a thirst
For approval of those who had previously turned their noses
That a mere manual could not quell nor explain
The emptiness growing in the heart of useless searching, or her wallet


With the endless thrumming of the rails
And night falling on the light like a fire proof blanket
The cabin almost empty to the only presence beside my party
Head turned
Leering through the window
The darkness pulling on her hair
Shoulders slumped but back as stiff as a board
With one leg pulled under the other
And the smell of soft dirt or pelting rain
Permeating from the seat
The conscious form with abyssal eyes as dark and oceanic as the deep
Searching the night world outside of the window
For specks of light within the vast, swallowing landscape
A digit sliding off the pane, smearing anything found into sweat and vapor
The coldness of her eyes, filled with rage and grief quickly dart in one direction
As her neck snaps towards me, whether out of disgust or courtesy

I quickly turn away and into the warmth of my grandmother’s form
And smother my face in her wrinkled hands
As she pats my head, and calls me by my first name
The cabin at a halt, and her line of sight towards
The two men with white gloves and red symbols on their uniforms
Hauling off the poor old woman
Who’s rasping had eventually given way to suffocation
And my inattention had given way to more than I had cared to see

With small opaque eyes
As murky as the winter sea
With every rasping breath
And a kind smile
No longer wanting courtesy

When I asked you of your favorite color
You told me that red looks great on my dress
But you wouldn’t paint a wall with it

Green makes a nice salad
But you wouldn’t necessarily want to eat it

And when I asked you about blue,
Shaking hands with silence left me feeling more estranged than usual


Though the sterling midnight sky
And the bitter cup of coffee
Couldn’t match the ridges of coal
Between the pool of amber in your iris
And the smoky black that was the pupil

The rain that pelted the window
I had imagined to be a harmony of hues both
Forest green like the towering pines and like the
Hunched weeping willows with their tears being
A myriad of cerulean now cascading from the ash clouds
Which gathered about our heads



A quiet thrumming of traffic in the torrential downpour
Tends to sounds like the collective beating of a scarlet heart
With highways as blue and violet veins
And capillaries screaming across the mortal plane
With each thump, each minute, each color

But with heavy eyes and dark plum circles rounding out your lids
You sat there straining to grasp the train of thought that
Kept being derailed at every word
With each merciless stare and meek disdain
That was once splattered pink across the face of your mother

And without a further misconception or
Dejected thought
Suspended in a time frame of confusion
You grabbed my hand
And with muck-brown eyes
Looked into mine like a sailor lost in shadowed blue waters
And spoke of love
With golden glazed verbs
And honeyed adjectives
Weaving intricately together



So then I stand
Pull out my hand
And taking the bluest depths of the ocean with me
Storm out to the concrete lot

But you catch on
And with pleading eyes the color of a pitch black chasm
Try and make me sympathize
To agree
To understand
To stay and to listen
To love and to hold



But how can I?
When you don’t even have a favorite color.