I woke up and reality came crashing down at the speed light.
I didn’t want to open my eyes.
I didn’t want to smell the air.
I didn’t want to stretch my arms as a welcoming gesture towards this new day.
I didn’t want to get up, out of bed, and touch the freezing floor that would immediately tell me to forget about everything I had just seen, witnessed, experienced.
I didn’t want to forget.
I wanted to remember every single scene that played in my head to continue dancing around in my mind.
People I encountered.
Odors I smelled.
Places I saw.
Every single detail that made that world unbelievably amazing.
Every interaction.
So, I tossed and turned.
And I flipped to one side, then flipped to the other.
Put my hands over my eyes.
Shut the sunlight out completely…
And thought of you.
You were there.
Arriving so quickly as if you were coming to rescue me from the depths of my despair.
But you were so god dam far away.
I couldn’t bring myself to bear this.
I could see you, but were you really there?
I could hear you, but were you really speaking to me?
You kept calling my name.
And you were saying something I didn’t quite understand.
Or maybe you were saying something I just didn’t want to hear.
I heard it over and over, nonstop.
So I opened y eyes.
And I took a deep breath, exhaling the glorious memory that seemed to be hanging on to my soul.
I spent the rest of the day trying to re-live and re-experience everything I’s seen before.
Every step of it. I went over and over it so that and I wouldn’t miss a thing thinking that come night time I’d have everything completely clear (stored) and in place.
That when my head hit the pillow, I’d simply close my eyes and you would exist again.
Be there once again.
Return to me.
[Time]
I gave up.
I caved.
What else was I supposed to do?
I was hanging unto miserable pain that turned into beauty every time I remembered your eyes.
I imagine this kind of torture can only be physically endured by few people.
Painful because it became self inflicted.
Beautiful because you remained just as I’d seen you that very first time.
This reassured me you hadn’t changed.
But I still couldn’t see you like I did before.
Maybe I was the one that changed.
Was my mind looking for something different than what my heart had seen before?
I sat down on a desk.
Pen and paper in hand,
Thinking that somehow I could put these haunting thoughts into words.
And that these words would eventually become actions*
Time passed.
Things changed.
But this always happens.
Everything around me was so quiet.
The silence was deafening.
I could hear you, finally.
I was solaced.
It was a humbling feeling to hear your voice.
Thought I wouldn’t live to see the day you’d come back.
I thought you’d be gone forever.
We are drained by the love we choose to give into.

-Daisy Polanco

Speaking to another,
Leaves a feeling of absence.
Of things wanted to be said.

I got called gray today.
I realized how right he was.
If only someone would splash

*Some color onto me

When first light breaks, the drapes
guard themselves
like wounded children,
whispering

There is no visible end
on which to latch.

Hatred shares
a wall with me,
shares
a callous countenance,
shares
a small, collapsing tear.

Much love to the one who wants it least;
they need it more than most.

Like rosaries
chanted
in an empty church,
I sing an impression of hope.

I got to find me a drink.
It’s been fighting my gut for quite some time now.
I got to find me a drink.
I can feel it clawing up my throat.
I got to find me a drink.
It’s too soon, but it’s rattling my voice box.
I got to find me a drink.
It’s begging to be released.
Shouted.
Absorbed.
I got to find me a drink.
I can feel it creeping along my tongue.
I got to find me a drink.
Every day, it crashes against the back of my teeth.
I got to find me a drink.
I’m not thirsty.
I’m choking.
& Lord knows, love never goes down easy.

Containers full of pain and sorrow
And laughter and joy.
Tiny universes held together with skin,
Sitting in a bus station at 3am.

Drooping faces weary with travel.
These are my people,
Though they don't know me.
My family,
Though they don't see me.
I sit alone in the corner and watch them watch their T.V.s
I watch them wait.

I watch the woman across from me.
The picture of middle-aged addiction.
Clinging to her garbage bag belongings
Like a scared child clings to its mothers breast.
As I memorize every line on her face,
Broken teeth and searching eyes,
I realize that she is beauty defined.

Has anyone ever told her?

In that room,
unperceived,
The ineffable resides.
Hidden in the suitcases of crack fiends
And vagabonds.

3am Escanaba to Milwaukee

That's my cue to leave,
I raise my hands to the ceiling and I shout
"Goodbye, you're all beautiful!"
They look at me like I'm crazy.
I don't care.
I am madly in love with their humanity.

I never want to know sanity.

the earth spins sweetly
like a turntable in a sun-lit living room
or the hem of a long skirt in july

the best things in life are free

the sing-song laugher of the birds as i sip my morning coffee
the smell of fresh rain and wet concrete
the curve of the sky late at night
as i stare emphatically into the stars
hanging low to the wyoming plains and sage

how fantastic it is to simply **be

the professor
name's John, I think
every day a goatee
a ponytail
and an honest smile
brings me flowers
sometimes.
pays in nickels
sometimes.
"have an easy day"
he says to me

man in the same brown
suit, mismatching
every day
coffee, hunched over
with something under
his arm
sometimes.
never seen him speak
just a scowl
and a solemn shuffle

the owner
of the bar next door
I think.
out for a cigarette
every 30 minutes or so
or move his car
he gets our mail
sometimes.
glasses on his forehead
never on his face
always a fleeting
noncommittal smile
pacing past the door
sly eyes.

there's the guy
stuck in the 70s.
every day
bell bottoms
a black bowl cut
it's a wig
I think.
a leather jacket
sometimes.
walks like he owns
the sidewalk
he doesn't.

the old man
the half-blind one
orders the same thing
always.
with his walker
his hands searching
haven't seen him
in a while

the big guy from
the burger place
across the street
no, not the famous one
the other place.
took his suggestion
got a burger
wasn't very good
but he's always so
cheery, gotta be nice

the one guy
blue shorts guy
stops by during his
run, to check
the selection.  back
an hour later in
pants and
a jacket now.
never buys a thing
wearing those blue shorts

the woman with
oddly spaced teeth
and hair
the short witchy kind
lots of shawls
and oversized tote bags
and cargo-capri's.
complained of
an allergic reaction
once
to god knows what.
keeps coming back though

a mother and son
mother, tired.
ten year old
private school boy
asks for too much
and too many questions
"did you make this?"
"are you really 20?"
"do you go to school?"
he asks so many questions
"yes, yes, no."
"why not?"
"well…"
mom saves me
distracts him away

the poor skinny one
the homeless man.
ill-fitting clothes
always.
women's
sometimes.
begging, cigarettes and money
has a tic, says
"hello! hi! hello!"
every few seconds
he's very persistent.
and very polite.
gracefully insane, I'd say