hey corner store clerk,
you sold me candy for quarters
now *** for less
or whatever under a few dollars
wonder if you think of this
wonder if it leaves you bothered
the liquor store needs its checks
i know that you’re a father

you must not sell much else but *****
at least this feeds your family
the chocolates been stale for years,
your bread and milk is moldy

sunset came and so did the end,
your store closed up,
no more money to spend.
i wave at the empty shell as we pass by,
and maybe she waved back—
maybe in my mind

counting out those little circles
pennies dimes or silver nickels
counting out these little steps
glazing through the silver ripples
somewhere there's something left
something somewhere’s simple
somewhere i can spin the cap; treat my body like a temple.
i clutch you, little lifeline
i fiddle with the crinkles
if I could count the winter flakes
if little could be so simple

i find that church
sit on the steps
say hey to God
it's me, the king's old fool
his funniest fraud
blood to wine, money to time;
one feeds the soul
one passes by

a playground has seen
many versions of me
before i dyed my hair
until age sixteen
and now my ID reads: something beyond my reach
old enough to buy bubblegum,
old enough to drink bleach

maybe ghosts don't haunt
still i think they did that day
smoke in the shape of me
in the shape of idle play
probably just blurry
didn't drink enough to see two,
probably just blurry -
angry snot on a paper bag.
but still,
isn't that you?

could be that warm breath just fogs
like how clouds took form
of god colored cinnamon & applesauce
we still point and say that's me
and she laughs,
she waves again like salted sea

two swimming in that bobbing water
two swimming in that bottled fire
that's me, isn't it?
didn't we once exist?
like God and Mom and dead uncle John?
and that's all it took?
exist?

now it takes just this huh?
just this to feel
just this to persist?
well at least there's something grounding me,
at least that's something real
*******,
swinging keeps you in the air
and monkey bars break wrists

my phone dances in my pocket
she wonders where I've been
think she'd be pleased with church
but it isn't a day of rest
but at least I'm here, that works
at some point i was blessed
the truth the way the life
wasn't always bought with quarters
adults would tithe or something
but this new **** barks out orders

maybe I shouldn't be here
i think this was enough
finish off your spirits
go home. you've had enough.

i don't remember what went after,
i probably fell asleep
found distractions in other stuff
sticky black smoke, a game
being buzzed was just enough
her little fists let off the swings
i do remember how
she waved and said goodbye to me
and i scowled and cut the strings

not long after we set up tents
red canopies and hammocks
we laid to rest, I did my best **** it
and he's still angry, what isn’t new
we’re out of town
what else to do
pull me aside and sit me down
sure i cut her off but she comes fast now
that small sorry, being punished
it was never that different, was it?

“you took my change
you stole from me five dollars.”

caught by the toe, won’t let it go
go on, try to holler

“we came here to have fun,
we came here to have fun.
but just let me remind you
just of what all you’ve done.
of all the things you’ll never be,
of the things that you've become.

you don't take unless I say so,
you won't wear my socks.
if you think you’re worthy of that,
then in my shoes you’ll walk.
you don't do anything.
nothing.
so at least just get me off."

i think about that change
i think about that change
i think about that change
i ask us what's changed