Patch of light
Dangling in air
For minutes on end
Moving as though pacing
Is certainly either a
Secret government project, or
An alien spacecraft, but
I am both too scared and
Far too tired to
Go outside and
Take a look
A baby learning to walk. an old man fails to.
you haven't been touched in a week aside from a man who likes your socks and shoelaces offering you an elbow cause you have a chicken sandwich in your hands.
Shorts so small you can see the pockets. Red hair. Walking past fossils cause you're looking at your phone.
Why did you go in the "insect zoo" Mike? You ****** hate spiders.
your most human interaction is the man who asks if he can use your leftover donut bag to carry his food. The food he got from the soup kitchen across the street. The one you went to to use the bathroom. Borrowing him privilege in bag form.
he doesn't like to eat outside. Too many mosquitoes. He babywalks with a cane.
The gun that shot Lincoln is tiny and I am interested in it only for it's death potential.
A French family crying, don't have the right papers to get into the White house tour. I wish I could tell them the tour wasn't that good.
drunk conversation with brother about father.
don't talk to. Don't know how. Don't want to.
I am swallowed by the heat
The silence that passes for conversation.
my mother is very conservative. the strain of hiding myself. Closed lips
I am a silent eavesdropper. A parent pays 7.50 for a ****** tourist piece of pizza. Placed in front of her child. Exhaustion drips off her face. Oozes out of her posture. Her kid doesn't like the pizza. Mouth a tight line. The child tells a story. The tight line blooms into laughter.
My friend (I wonder about kissing her) goes to a Philando Castile memorial. I go to the lincoln memorial. Pictures and profit. It's smaller than I thought while she’s heavy from the impact.
Memorial – pictures – walking – repeat – heat – feet – and the wondering of how much memorializing goes on at giant statues.
His fedora looks ******. small kids bumps into me. child-style. I don't see him cause I'm so tall. His mother tells him to watch where he's going.
My dad’s not on the trip. Divorce’ll do that to you. My brother calls him a lost soul
The trip was good and I would never go again.
i thought i lost this at the psych unit
and now i wear it so i don't forget where i'm going and why i'm going there
so i'm not strung along the day-to-day of the metro suburbs in the nation's capital
where it's all hustle, bustle, or get out of my way
red line of blue line? silver or green?
somewhere in the masses
i am part of the chaos blurring past corporal company buildings and stockholders
the metallic blue nissan in a sea of teslas, porsches, BMWs
i won't throw around the cliché to "grow where i'm planted" but supposedly this is where i'm supposed to be for now
with no one left to impress but a fantasy
it's crazy what our minds will entertain
a year ago i was wandering on a godforsaken island and now i waste the days folding silverware
and so am i
After some months
The journey took me back
to the place where I used to belong
I used to call it an “expedition”
sharing life and stories with people
from different walks of life
Today, not knowing where I should go back
-after my visa expires-
I see everything in the distance
After taking a nap at the National Gallery of Art
I call my friends only to hear their voices
I can no longer see them, anywhere!
I wonder if all the people have disappeared
and new human beings were brought to the city.
I know the place, even how the streets cross,
But no longer the people!
Run away from myself and catch up with myself
All at a time
Run up and run down
I want to
I want to generate the wind
so that I can feel it.
“Who are you?” & “how are you”
I need to
I need to discover myself
so that I can live my life
Run to destroy the balance,
Run to twist the reality,
Run to cherish the moment,
Run to belong!
My marathon took me to the DuPont Circle
There, something remained the same
Memories and metaphors
Encounters and farewells
Moments were preserved for me
with slightly different taste
I sat before the dawn
Under the map of Washington D.C.
trying to tell a story of my life
I’ve been running through
That felt like a release from a hospital
was just a beginning of another departure
Steaming coffee mug
don’t rush, don’t goー
Let us pause the Sky
— The End —