we were brave once

but we were told
to be sensitive
and empathetic
and walk a mile
in another’s shoes

and now ignorance
is mistook for brilliance,
and the only risks we
take involves which
flavor of cheetos
we get from the
gas station

we were great once,
I remind you

If I want it,
I must take it now,
and seize it with
my hands

If I want it,
I must do the act,
and forget my own
fear of grime

IF I want it,
I must attack;
my friends, my
loves, myself

IF I WANT IT,
I must go soon
the time is short
the evening looms

IF I WANT IT
I MUST MOVE ON
THESE TEARS DO NOTHING
THESE TEARS NEVER HAVE

if I want it,
I can have it,
there’s a way
and I know it,
but I can’t face it,
- this gruesome act -
for I don’t want it
- bad enough –

to destroy everything
getting in my way
and by that I mean
- myself -

now that the fear,
the doubt,
the shame
of myself I hoard
deep inside
my heart,
is gone
I can get back
to work
using the lessons
I’ve been taught (once
again) to rise,
like a fighter,
from the mat
and go in swinging
against the world
that only wants
to help

I
do not know
what it’s like
to not be
confident

I do not know what failure is
what doubt is
what grief is

the next day
will always be brighter
to me
even when I know
winter is soon
upon us

I
do not know
what it’s like
to not be
confident

I have,
and always will,
believe that I
can do
anything

and for that
I am weak
with my lack
of
limits

a house of
cards will fold
on themselves
in the lightest
of breezes
or the harshest
of storms

looking at the people, with all their
faces, legs, arms, shirts, *******, hairs
and eyes. I see a million different
flavors of the same thing but in
practice you cannot prove my theory

down to the tiniest strand of DNA, or
smallest molecule of amino acids, or
even the minuscule atoms of carbon
or oxygen, I am absolutely
right

but in the large term, in
the space where you are
greater than the sum of
your parts, I find that we
are so much more than
atoms or molecules or
DNA

we are destined to live every day for our lives
but we have since passed that stage (at least for
now) and ascended to the plateau of higher
thought and a meaning to life other than survival

what can I do to deny woman?
what can I do to deny man?
they are so compelling,
even in their idiocy and
(my more Darwinist side says)
should be given no pity

but I feel the fire of human interaction deep inside me
to hate, to love, to loath, to want, to need, to feel, to
be there for your friends, your enemies, or your people

I feel the fire deep in my heart, deep in my mind, deep in my
groin

It’s there and burning on the fuel of my darkest and
inner-most thoughts. It’s there and (slowly) burning
away my soul

are we
more afraid of
failing
or
failing
to succeed?

there’s that feeling
that comes with the sun
as she shines
across a blue sky
that slowly fades
to white

there’s that feeling
that comes with a new year
as the days
begin to get brighter
and we can imagine
all we can do

it’s a winter night tonight
and I’m sitting in my room
in the warmest jacket
I could find
but my hands are
still frozen
and the darkness
seeps in from the
windows

I’ve given up trying
to argue with my
suffering,
I’m just sad
and with plenty of
good reason
too

but when I climb into bed
under a thick comforter
and still shiver
I wonder why
things haven’t changed
yet

I’m still alone
nearly seven months
later
I’ve found no one,
not even a fling
not even a friend
and each day it gets harder
to get up and smile into
the cold breeze

the stars have stopped
talking to me

the earth no longer
shows me her
beauty

I do not think I will
survive the winter
alone in the universe
like this

but that’s the lie
that I like to
tell myself

I will always survive

through  hell,
burning or freezing,
through apocalypse,
through upheaval,
through war,
through abandonments,
through destruction,
and even through
certain kinds of
death
I will still be here,
writing poems
for the darkness
of night
for no other reason
than to prove I existed
for one more
moment

like a soldier always marching
like an ant always building
like a tree always growing
like the world always churning
I am unstopping yet
not unyielding,
living, as I do,
in accordance with
the earth:

surviving,
if barely,
from each harsher winter
she puts before me
and always rising
greater than
before

law doesn’t really
exist
only the rules
they want you to follow,
their diligence in upholding
them,
and their willingness
to punish you
way beyond the bounds
of reason

I needed it,
you know

I needed you to tell me
to shut up,
that I did good,
that despite all my doubts
and worries
and fears,
I probably made it
through

but instead,
you told me the truth

I probably ****** up
I probably failed
I probably ******* myself
for the up-teen millionth
time

and that’s not what I
needed

not then
and
certainly not
now

I needed to be lied
to

I needed to be told
I was wrong

but instead all you did
was shrug your shoulders
and said, “well, you’re
probably right”

I am a master of the universe

I outstretch my fingers and the stars outstretch themselves
I reach for their tender glow,
catching them in my hands,
and I take deep whiffs of their eternal scents,
feeling their magic flow through me,
into me, through my mind
and my body,
down into my muscles,
my heart, stomach,
and then into my
fingers

the feeling of energy,
pulsating, strong, steady,
a heart-beat of the ethereal,
an existence thriving on
the non-existent

I am a master of the universe,
I move the stars and sway the moon,
I eat the darkness and make art out of light,
I sing songs of a thousand implosions,
I dance with the expansion of the void

let me into you
let me into your life

I am happiness, I am joy,
I am the want for better,
I am obtaining it, I am achieving it,
I am doing things right, doing things well,

I am the universe itself

all enveloping, all encompassing,
all loving

do not fear me,
for I do not fear ever

love for love’s sake,
love for the purpose of
love

never hide
never wear a mask

be yourself,
flaunt yourself,
look at yourself,
let others look at
you

and if they frown,
let them frown

assess their complaints and internalize them
take them for what they are,
for what they mean
and use them if you wish,
or if you do not wish

I will tell you this
and tell you this again

we are not apart
we are together
we are one
one thing
and that one thing
is all of us
not just you and I
but he and she
and they

they too are us
we too are them

do not fear that
do not feat that

for you cannot fear what
is true

only what may be
or what is not

oh well oh well oh well

we **** up and that is ok
that is ok,
that is ok

take another try
do not not try again
for that is death
even in life
so many die
and I weep for them
I cry at night
I cry in the day
inside my heart
in my mind

I weep

for the dead living lives of death

I weep

oh yes

I weep

but then I smile at them, take them in my arms,
let them struggle, let them be alerted, let them
try to escape and when they cannot, I let them
rest, I let them accept it, accept me, accept us,
accept you and I, he, she, and I, and when they
do we all feel better, we all feel better don’t we?

don’t fear don’t fear don’t fear don’t fear don’t
love love love love love love love love love love

(is the only way)

know this
and know this
well

we are not apart we are one
we are one

we and the stars
and the earth and the oceans
and the trees and birds
and rats and mooses
and guitars and waves
and pens and desks
and digital viruses
and corpses

we once all were the same
we are still the same
still matter
still energy

connected, if invisibly,
by our common past

once we were all each other
and that is how it is

ok?

ok

the masters of the universe know what I say

they do not fear, they love
and love again, they love,
and love again, even when
love is gone

they do not fear, they love

so those masters of the universe, like me,
like me, they reach their hands out into
the blackness, reaching out for little lights
to brighten their lives, but when they have
them, they do want them (for themselves)
they seek to share them, give them away,
take what they need and remove all the
rest

this, this is the way of the universe

one big exchange, constantly shifting,
moving, changing hands, coming under
new management, forgetting yesterday
in search of tomorrow, this universe
swirls with activity and that is beauty

read fast for time is fast

it slips away between the cracks into the realm of nothing,
like death with life of living death, it disappears in plane
sight

this, alone, is the biggest shame of all

embrace this,
remember this,
forgo this,

do as you think is best,
whether you were taught or you thought for yourself,
do it, for it is the best way,
the best life for you,
that,
that is true

let me list some true things:

I am not me,
I am not myself,
I am not just myself,
I am more
I desire to be more

everything I do is meant to extend beyond myself
into you I say, I throw my love, and though it may
bounce off, falling flat, floppy, on the floor, for my
effort I will be rewarded (you will be rewarded)
once my trials come to conclusion

this master of the universe offers you this as one last offering
a token of my life to keep with you forever

but paper burns,
inks fades,
ice melts,
and planets explode

the sun will die and us maybe
too

so do not take this for its worth
take it for its meaning

I am a master of the universe
finally curling up,
and taking my rest

a cold front
blows in from the west
with low, fat clouds
that bear
snow,
or wind,
or rain.

the winter time
of cold winter
times is nearer
and nearer to
me

heat not harming
warm fires warming
blankets and jackets
feel good on the skin

cold front
in from the west
the past blows east
but the future
on the winds comes
always faster

halter of progress
bane of evolution
frostbite of growth
death of the future

try to stop me now!
I dare you!

I know your tricks!
your snarly ways!

the maybes
the sick feelings
the doubtful thoughts
the double-takes

I know them all!
every
single
one

and you can’t stop me anymore!
nuh-uh
you can try,
but you
can’t!

so now,
be afraid!
be very afraid!
because world

here I come

and honestly,
you’ve got no way
to stop
me




(unless you **** me,
of course.)

out of the daylight,
out of the bright walls of my mind,
out of the clear blue sky,

it creeps out on ten legs
it creeps out on beetle’s feet
it creeps out on the shores of my mind

looking at me it smiles it’s dark smile
looking at me it sees the fear
looking at me it knows

jumping up it begins its first steps told me
jumping up it extends its wings to show its power
jumping up it takes the last bit of hope I had

on top of me it does not speak
on top of me it does not attack
on top of me it only stares

in my soul I feel its truth
in my soul I feel the sun hot on my face
in my soul I feel the message it sends

my brain acknowledges it means no harm
my brain acknowledges relaxing and calming
my brain acknowledges death as it comes

what is left is a body without a heart
what is left is a brain without a mind
what is left is a corpse without purpose

the insect king came from within me
the insect king came from the good parts not the bad
the insect king came and went and left me as I was

I am now rotting and yet growing
I am now a child of my murderer
I am now the king of death who fears
only one thing:

being brought back to life,
and mortality,
and morality.

it’s impossible to know the future
it’s impossible to change the past

in short,
what you have
in this very
moment

nothing more
nothing less

take that to heart

it’s all you’ve got

is there any
other business?
the drab
judge said
to his
fellow lawful
relics

the room was
silent

good,
we are dismissed
he said

I’m sorry,
a voice said,
but I can’t let us
go without saying
something

the judge let loose
a deep breath from his
nostrils

what is it,
brother?
have you a
concern?

a man,
the voice said,
one that is set to
hang
he is
not
guilty

and how is it
that you know this
brother?

his crime,
the commitment of
emotion,
is not a
crime

how so brother?
have we not seen
what happens when we
feel?

yes I know of the wars,
of the hatred,
of the destruction,
but I say
it is not a
crime!

but it is-
a crime

the room was silent then
the judge and the man
who the voice belonged to
stared at each other

it broke with the voice
not the judge

where would we be without
feeling?

where would we be with
it?

silence
again

we would be animals
without our emotions

are you saying we
aren’t
animals?

yes,
I am saying
we are better than
that

we are man!
we are human!
we have minds!
we have morals!
we are above the rest!
we are the best, the
greatest!

we can be responsible!
we can be trusted!
we can be allowed to feel!
we can love!

the air had long left the room
no one knew what to think
there was hatred and anger
but also denial and questioning
who was right? who was wrong?
what does this challenge mean?

it was the judge,
not the voice,
that spoke this time
first

arrest this man

he is guilty of our
most heinous
crime

and the voice was dragged off
his body desecrated and burned
by men in black masks and sick
smiles

the voice did not die
the man he was fighting for
did not either

the man ran,
to the hills he ran,
on the mountains he
screamed:

I love her
I love her
I love her

he was never caught
he ran about the country
and was heard by ears
and seen by eyes
and his image and his form
would not leave the minds
of the people

yet the corpse of that voice,
living now in a dying man,
still lies in some forgotten
warehouse, decaying and
rotting with worms

that corpse is what happens
to those that think freely
even in this age, of free speech
and free justice we are one
step from a court of logic
that forgets what it means to
love and truly thinks it is a
crime

this all plays within my mind,
the judge myself
the voice myself
the man myself
the message myself
the court myself
the meaning myself
and most of all

the torture
myself

no reason to live
or die, no purpose
to be seen, and no
idea why

life sinking down-
ward, stuck in sand
and digging out’s
impossible

smiles and frowns
and blank looks,
mind and body are
gone

I’m not enough for
myself, so how can
I be enough for any-
one else?

there stands one thousand foot stone walls
on both sides of me, rising into the ceiling
by curving softly like a dancer in motion,
and I walked across polished marble there
to stand before a throne decked in jewels,
and gold and other precious, material things,
but this seat was empty, completely devoid
of life, never having seen to its final purpose.

so I thought, as all mortals do when faced
with great chance, that I might be the end,
that I might be what this beautiful place
was destined to join and become whole,
that this was a sign, a message, a promise
from the will that works beyond the reach
of our eyes that I had found my meaning
just as this place found its calling as well.

this, I believe, is where the story becomes
hazy, for all that I remember is sitting there
for a long time, wondering at the opportunity
I had been given and could not hope to take.
for there stood the ancient kingdom all had
hoped to claim for themselves, and there
stood I, who realized all too late that man
could not hope to own anything but himself.

I have created much
in the name of myself
and for myself,
and for myself
alone,
have I made myself
make more for myself
so that one day my self
might be myself
through the sheer fact
that what I create is for myself
and is all that I can say
is truly me.

the one
thing
I will
never be
allowed
to be
is
myself

into this world we know is wrong
into this place we hate to imagine
into this society we scarcely recognize
into this people we love to loath
into this culture dependent on lies

we are born
we are created
we are refined
we are loved
we are hated
we are juxtaposed
we are stereotyped
we are absorbed
we are abandoned

into this town we forgot
into this city we left
into this country we ignored
into this earth we killed

we are alpha
we are omega
we are the end
we are the beginning

into this, our lives,
we are the only factor
separating hell from
reality

I know what it’s like to be invincible
walking through the streets of London
wind biting at my face and
cold cutting to the bone

I fear nothing

the night cannot get me
the criminals cannot get me
the gods cannot
god cannot
no government
nor act of fate either

I fear nothing

but then I wander back home
frostbit and travel-weary
thawing my whole being as I rush inside
and as I melt
so does my ambition
and I remember who I really am and
sigh

it was one of my shirts
large, even on me,
but you loved it

the green matched your eyes
and it reminded you
of places
we would
one day visit

and each night
you’d strip off your day clothes
and pull that oversized shirt
over your beautiful *******
and lead me down
to the place
where
my best
and
worst
memories
were made

cold,
metallic,
unforgiving,
uncaring,
faceless,
emotionless,
all-know­ing,
all-seeing,
all-saying,
always silent,
always calm,
never lost,
never going anywhere,
never wondering,
never doubting,
unbending,
undulating,
unrelenting
a mirror,
a wall,
a window,
a door,
a hole,
a plug,
a sword,
a shield,
a dagger,
blood,
heart,
brain,
eyes

iron is
and iron
does
and
iron is-

there,
always.

always…

there.

it wasn’t the first time
but it does catch me off guard occasionally
looking at others
at what they do
then looking at
what I do

poetry

sure,
there were some good people,
I certainly can admit to that
but looking at all my notes
and then looking at all their
faces

I’m noticing a pattern
that gets stronger and
stronger every time I
check

the key to
understanding people
is realizing that
you can only
understand
a person

fire walls of hatred words
green flames of jealous rage
sorrowfully now I walk alone
this day I hope never comes

blood in my teeth
taste so familiar
as I head into another
lonesome night

nothing is funny
or ironic now
only cold reality
offers a blanket
for the night

it is a red scarlet markings
as I bite into this evening
that sits in my once beautiful
and magical mouth

it is truth that runs forth
staining the white jewels
perfectly placed at the end
of throat

the evidence there,
in the mirror,
terrifies me

because it reminds:
I am flesh and blood,
not gold or steel.

I am not perfect.
I am not immortal.

I am…
human.

oh, god.

I, the optimist,
am hopelessly in love
with thinking that the past
is not indicative of the
future

I, the optimist,
cannot dream of a future
where I am no more
and my children are no more
and we,
as a species,
are no
more

I, the optimist,
look into the future
and past grimly
but even as the grime
grows thicker over
the things already
happened
and even more so
over the things yet to
come
and
I, the optimist,
do not doubt that they
will work out for the best
in the very, very
end

things will not be well
things will be awful
things will go bad
and things will
end

let this happen
be brave
enjoy what you can
and do not dwell
on anything

roll with the waves
sway with the wind
ignore the sun in your
eyes

plant your feet
and
keep growing

the sun will rise
tomorrow

it’s not hard to say

it’s not even hard
to think about

it doesn’t make me sad
or mad
or any of those
other emotions
I’m supposed to be
feeling

it just is

simply as that

I’m getting the news out

first to my girlfriend,
then to my best friend,
then to those who know
me the very least

my mom will take care of family,
doctors, school, people who
“need to know”

but it’s my job to sit around with
it

it’s not hard yet

so far,
it’s pretty easy

it just is
like I said earlier
it just is

nothing to be said
or done or thought
about

and I think my poetry
isn’t going to be any
better

my life isn’t going to seem
any richer

my mind isn’t going to seem
lost or out of sorts

I think I’m still going to be Caleb

no more or less

others are going to have a
harder time than I will

I’m just going to sit around
and write more poetry, sipping
my diet coke like I always do
and quietly repeating to myself:

*oh well

I have a fleeting thought,
just now,
sitting on the bumper of somebody’s car,
empty coke can beside me.

What if I just walked away?

Walked in any direction,
and kept
going?

just go

no thoughts.
no consequences.

just me,
my backpack,
and,
the thirty-five dollars
in my pocket.

It comes then
goes.

just as my
legs begin
to move,
it flees away
again

I sit on the ground now
I flinch as a car passes

looking at all the ways I could go
but still remaining still.

I grimace.

big drops drop down on
everything as the evening
consumes the day

it is neither
cloudy nor night
yet
it still rains

suddenly the world
is all wet

suddenly the animals
are all hid

suddenly my music
has a new rhythm
section

but nothing is
different

it’s only
raining

idiots

I am stretched out my bed
as the fan whirls furiously above me
and the TV people dance
their dance on mute
and the music pours out
of my speakers

this book of poems
is very good

it’s got Bukowski and Ginsberg,
who I already know,
and people with names like
“Jack Grape” and
“Sharon Olds”

(though I have not gotten
to their poems yet)

it's a book all about
the poets who dared
to not be
“poets”

the ones who wrote
about *******
in simple terms
and
wrote about their fights
with their landlords
and their ex-girlfriends

they wrote of drinking
and of hang-overs

of jobs they did not like
and dreams they would never fufill

they described love
as it was
and
not as it should
be

this  is the sort of poetry I write,
or at least, I attempt to write
and laid out on my twin bed
I felt very much one of them

inspired only by the improbability
of my existence

I am
flotsam drifting with the currents,
experiencing each wave
and smiling at the chance
to bask in the sunshine

walking down the road now
my car named ‘my writing’
abandoned 3, 4, 5, 10 miles
back

it’s hot,
too hot
and the sun shines down on me
making me sweat uncomfortably
and
the road is long
too long for me
because it seems like I’ve been walking forever
and yet I haven’t seen a sign of humanity yet

then it comes screeching down
the road; a car not used to the
speed it has now; and in it is
a man desperately looking for
me

he spotted me
before I spotted
him and just as
I first heard his
tires melting to
the asphalt he
was jumping
out at me his
tongue tied to
the thought he
was trying to
eject from his
body

his talk excited,
he said: “is that
your car?”

I stare blankly

“is that your car?”

“what car” I say

“the one on the side
of the road! that one!”
he spurted out grin
wide

yes,
I think
so

“fantastic!
let me give
you a lift!”

ok
I say

ok
I said
not knowing
what to think

he asked me question after question
(about the car)
and told me how it was a masterpiece!
a genuine miracle! a historic marker
that I must continue to bring  to the world!

ok
I said
(I disagreed,
the piece of junk
had just left me in
the desert remember)

he called a tow truck for the car
he dropped me off at my house
he gave me $5000 dollars (for the car)

and then he drove off
smile on his face

I looked at the money,
the tuckered out car,
my house and thought:

How lucky. Maybe there
is something to this car

maybe there was,
because I just got
back in it and drove
down the highway
like usual

my sister once told me
brother,
you’re not like everyone
else

and I wasn’t

I wouldn’t be my entire life
and I would be perplexed by it
but I would be happy

+

my father once told me
son,
you’re born to lead everyone
else

and I was

I would lead my entire life
and I would be stressed by it
but I would be happy

+

my friends once told me,
Caleb,
you’re more arrogant than everyone
else

and I was

I would be my entire life
and I was misunderstood for it
but I would be happy

+

I once told myself
man,
you’re not what everyone
else says

and I wasn’t

I was who I said I was
and I would accept that
and I would be happy with it
like no one else knew

I’m so alone

so very much
alone

is there a thousand daggers piercing
my heart right now?

or

a billion needles working their way
through my intestines?

**** it
**** it
**** it

I’m so lonely
I’m so alone

and I know why
it’s all on me
but that doesn’t change
the fact that I’m alone

so alone

so very,
very,
terribly,
alone

I am so young,
too young,
and yet everyone
always hails me as
infinitely older than I
seem

I must be
the only one who
can see it

the twisted, horrible
blob that is myself

because really,
I’m not very mature
and
I’m not very wise
I just see things a little different
and let that gift go all
to waste

the world
has yet
to wake
up

still hung-over
from last
night,
the gray clouds
wait with us
for the
pain to fade

(the eyes of the universe
scarcely notice our pause)

suddenly filled with confidence
I forget the turmoil of that past hour
I rage with a pulsing desire for activity
and jump and finish quickly my tasks

suddenly filled with an itchiness
I want to accomplish like an emperor fresh to his throne
I lust for a chance to prove my worth
and I look for all the possibilities of this world, now mine.

I am rushing towards an explosion
of my character

my mind will burst out my ears
and my words will burst out my
eyes and the person everyone
thought I was will be splattered
against the walls while my real
form stands naked for all to see

this fuse within in me comes
dangerously close to the bomb
hid behind my stoic face

the bodies hold me back
and the fuse burns slowly
faster with each person
that stands in the way

three,
two,
one,
I count,
seeing the fuse
come all the way
to the bomb

but then

nothing

psst.
fizzle.

the day goes on
and I am still a
ticking bomb

like a puzzle,
thrown
to the floor, there
are pieces
that flutter and
shatter away
attempting to free their
bonds and free them-
selves

like a vase,
thrown to the
floor,
there is no piece
left unbroken

like a book
off the shelf,
like an egg
to the ground,
like a brain
against the wall

there is only the
remains

in three, two, one
we brace for impact

there is no survival when victory
is measured in collateral damage

blinds start at
2 and
1

at an hour
they’ll double
and then we’ll
be at
4 and
2

and then every
half-hour after
that

they double again
and the night goes
on

high card deals
(I deal)

2 each
to the 7
at the
table

I have nothing
so I fold

and my uncle
to my left
takes the ***
and the deal

they would win
and lose
those 7 at the
table

and I would sit there
taking cards
and losing cards

and the night went on
like that
and I would not
win with a
smile

I
have
come
to
the
conclusion
that
all
anyone
ever
wants
to
do
is
to
be
tired,
go
to
bed,
smile
as
they
fall
asleep
and
then
wake
up
feeling
like
they
want
to
get
up

in
simple
terms
I
am
experiencing
one
of
these
rare
and
fleeting
moments

there’s
a
lot
that
could
be
attributed
to
the
why
or
the
because
but
I
think
the
best
thing
to
do
is
to
fo­***
on
experiencing
this
moment
rather
than
trying
to
figure
out
­how
to
do
it
again

goodnight

everyone

I
love
you

you
love
me
­
you
are
you

I
am
I

good
night
world

kiss
kiss
hug
hug
pat
pat

sigh

I am stuck in a part of my
life that nobody else is in

speaking a foreign tongue
repeating strange rituals
talking of places
most call imaginary
and dreaming dreams
in a sleepless
land

I am drifter and an outcast
a blasphemer to some
a prophet to others
but nobody
really knows
which

I am surrounded
but time is my only
companion

I beg them to understand
but they are not capable
they stare at me
and I stare back
both of us wide-eyed,
wondering, thinking in
our minds:

what savagery
thrives
here

how good
it would feel
to be in
love
right now?

lean back kid
it’s important to take
these moments in
like a fine wine
taking little sips
and experiencing everything
that it has to offer before
sipping down another
gulp

don’t worry about it
either kid,
it’s important to be
here, experiencing
this

lean back into it kid,
feel the power rumbling
through your veins
don’t get distracted
don’t rush through it
too fast

you’ll never know
the last good time
when you see it

civil lights against the black earth
sleepy eyes and silent faces of the
people around me
so many moving so fast without so
much as a flinch when we begin to
go

it is 7:04 and I think of the train ride home

a man jumped in front of a train
the cookies we bought were good
yet cold
it was fun for me but a stress I’m
sure for my grandma and her friend

it is 7:07 and I think of the time before the train

we lost my mom and grandma
the tube stop told us where the
real train station was
young cabbies always seem to
be the quietest and least helpful
of the bunch

it is 7:08 and I think of even before then

there was an itlaian woman on the train,
asking her husband for a baby
castles do not amuse me much, I’m not
one for old things or christianity
it’s cold and dark here but nobody seems
to mind

it is the evening of novemeber 26th