silent fragrant friday night
in my stuffy suburbia
as i walk
bourbon street via dolorosa,
dolores on a dotted line.
warm-lit windows -
amber eyes of empty houses
dreaming of prize family.
might as well be staring from space,
floating in the airless vastness,
my whole life in the palm of my hand.
4 months of nominal flight
with my brain in a lockup
going
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA­AAAAAAAA