I watch the kids.
Brown broken glass
around them.

Over it I fell,
Peace and glory to the night
Showing you that an
image is free and indulgent
permissive and letting.

To discover a name,
a sweet nothing in my ear and to believe
that the future is near.

I stare that, of eyes and I hold in my hand, lies.

Gates that seemed too short.
Woman who speaks
on your behalf I came to see.
The bone colored outside.

Tinted windows and a mist
Of your washed hair.

We walked as three
As we waved goodbye to
The mellow tree.

And when were alone
You'd laugh when your
neck tingled

Jammed and dammed
Days before school.
Longing for it to go away.

Heavenly scent Laundromat.
I am not in the picture yet
true cicadas were quiet.

I drain from my teeth,
the gesture of the chew
the spitting it out with a
handful of them dry.

                         Jolting verses from the steps
                         down the empty downtown.
                         Acting career in a city where,
                         Everyone carries their words
                                                                                  Lightly and tight.
                                                                                  My passion is an
                                                                                  Apartment with a
                                                                                  a tiny door and one
                                                                                           burner.