While I walk to Hendrick’s
early in the morning
I hold tangled up headphones
and feel for the keys in my pocket
which I am always forgetting
and I have
previously
relied on my roommates but
after last week
I try to remember them
being locked out is never
fun

I walk by the empty streets
in the new spring warmth
listening to the sounds of the wind
pass through my hair
watching a single
silver Honda
slink away
I wonder where
they are going
as the sun says hello
I wish I could drive
if I could
I would go to the lake
and shake hands
with the sun himself
maybe he would
say hi back
if he knows me


I know the sun
knows my face
and knows my cheeks
the freckles reflect that
and his kisses leave
rouge the shade of
peonies
every time I sneak
a smile
if I could
say hi to the sun
we would talk about
David Bowie
and we would decide
he
is one of the best artists
of all time,
not comparable to
Elvis,
who the sun would say
had a few great hits
but nothing could beat
Labyrinth
and I would agree
and I would tell
the sun that
he’s doing
a great job
because I don’t think
that anyone tells him that
and I think so