There must have been at least a couple hundred pounds of it
All trash
All things to let go

I find pens
A glittery black heart shaped paddle from Halloween
Old poetry
Stories
Photos
A set of drums

This how you body-bag your excess
Give your heart fat a proper burial

It is shedding weight

Take what you need
Take what you need
Enough so not sticking around is easy

I have a runaway pipe-dream
That in the telling
I have whiskey lung
And a voice like carnival gravel
Like semi-ground teeth in a bag you hold on your tongue

A comic strip hobo
With a stick and a red rag

Fresh starts imply shaking dead weight
That includes people

So much **** gone
**** I never needed
And was never going to use
But I was living with it

Norm sits in his honda. He has whisky breath so ***** he feels it change the color of his teeth as he breathes. His voice has become all gravel from a circus pipe-dream about how he'll leave here one day. He feels it like rusty train tracks tracing his bones. It itches his joints, the rusting. He starts the ignition and heads home.

Jonathen
Jonathen wake up

She stands in my doorway
Green knitted scarf
***** pink pajamas
Eyes and skin jaundiced yellow
A ***** Babushka if I were Russian

If this were a movie I'd be cursed by now

There is a man with a shopping cart in the driveway
I think he's trying to break in*

With my baseball bat
I step outside full of all the anger I had reserved for the day

The street is empty and cold

It's the fear
We make it up
We always do

As we walk to my best friend's house
My brother and I cross a bridge

He suddenly walks slowly
Like a penguin with a hunchabck
Closes his eyes a little
Steps towards the street

Tells me he is afraid of heights

I hold his 711 bag
And press my hand to his boney spine

We cross

When I can read
I am going to move to New York
Live in an apartment til I can buy a house

Toffer lived in New York
You should ask him about it

It snows there

I don't ask him about how he'll pay for it
All he need is to know how to read
Everything else falls into place after that

I believed in the easter bunny
And Santa
And god

There was chocolate in  church grass
A gift under a tree
And I pray when I am helpless

And one day you find out the truth
Realize parents are good at keeping secrets from you

Then they do things
Like drink themselves to near-death
Fall apart

And you see they are not superheroes
Thery're human

Makes me understand what it is to be a man

Vera once told me Mickey Mouse used to be a bisexual
That she can’t have kids
That I should never get old
But if I do
Don’t get diabetes because
Sugar free chocolate doesn’t taste nice

Her hair has that blue hue
Almost purple
It brings out her eyes

Her voice
When it is not overpowered by her walker
Is smooth and sure
Like sandpaper on velvet
She talks like she is already a ghost

I had a dog when I was younger
And he got sick one day
Really he got old
Something about his liver
And he started to bleed out from the inside
I asked the vet if he was in pain
He said no
Basically he got really tired
So he thought it was time to take a nap
And he went to his place
And never woke up
That’s a nice way to die

She smiles at me
I give her change
For the diapers
And the sugar free chocolate
And the 16 ounce bottle of orange juice

I touch her hand
It feels like that one time
Paper tried to be human
And begged you to play along

I played along

I don’t want her to die
But she’s 93
She’s cool with that

She tells good stories
And I know I won’t see her one day
I’m cool with that

I get so lost some days
I feel like I am rubbernecking lightning
Just waiting for the flash

And life is a Nissan brake-checking your awe

People say you can tell how close the storm is
By counting seconds between lightning and thunder
If you can see it
It is always close enough

I don't mean to romanticize everything
But it's what I do

The clouds look like scabs
In front of some bolts
Before they mesh back into the smooth blackness

I wish I healed that fast