I keep my feelings on a leash,
locked in a cage like the perpetrators of crime.
Sometimes I take them out for walks
to test out their rarely used legs on the ground.
Only too reel them back in,
too scared to let them wander,
wander towards those who let theirs loose freely,
not caring where they step.
For I have learned that this only leads to hurt.
Stubbed toes on the curbsides called love.
Failed attempts at crossing the crosswalk,
into the depths of someones shallow, unforgiving arms.
Not paying attention to the Stop sign right next to them.
Over and over, I wish I would've noticed that sign sooner..
Before all the heartbreaks and fallen tears.
And that is why
the footwork of my heart, kept captive in the dark,
is sleeping in silence for perhaps eternity

a beacon of misery
shining his light on the neighborhood
selling his wares on dark curbsides
or servicing customers in broad daylight
a 24 hour drive thru
the projects never sleep
good at his trade but hit houses and hos
dip into merchandise and revenue
he had to keep his day job

they roamed the streets in search of landscapers
scoping unattended pickup trucks
and snatching whatever they could
power mowers, blowers, spades and rakes
they called themselves garden snakes
fencing their ***** on Slauson Avenue
their profession requires reliable transportation
so every now and then would find him
rolling in a new stolen car

caught in a police chase once
“Finally got him”, they thought
the projects campus is a two way street
only one lane in and one lane out
his criminal genius spied a window of opportunity
a silver haired angel was stopped in the exit lane
he entered the two way and screeched on the brakes
drifting up next to her car at an angle
put it in park, jumped out and ran
effectively blocking the entrance
the poor old lady didn’t know what hit her
intimidated by flashing lights and sirens
she froze like a mannequin
not having the presence of mind to get out of the way
my friend disappeared, blending into the ghettoscape

we were going to the movies one warm summer night
he showed up at my door with eyes like fire flies
a gray sport coat draped his forearm
to cover up the fresh track marks
didn’t seem to realize
his long sleeves were already doing that
I enjoyed a movie that he couldn’t remember
shown at a theater he couldn’t recall

tired of the trappings of addiction
the violence of every-day-dealing
the disloyalty of his gangsta boys
the threat of being caught
the bad hits and three day highs
the smell of living in stolen vehicles
or finding some strawberry to shack up with
he tried to clean up
enrolled in a residency program
way out in the mountains
they called it Warm Springs
afterward he started attending meetings
going to church holding his palms up
in praise and supplication
praying in tongues
he gave it a good honest effort
but he lacked the skills and temperament for real life
I watched him slowly, steadily decline
rolling back downhill like a Sisyphus rock
with ***** hair and smelly shoes
didn’t see or hear from him for a while
then one day he drove up in my driveway
music blaring in an older, blue Cadillac
flashed some bills at me
fanning through them like a deck of cards
“Congratulations”, I said
“You made it all the way back.”

Trash bags climbing

Curbsides like vapid spiders

To me now

Everything is a ghost

Helpless to the current of the wind

I watch the bag collapse like an exhausted lung

And fill with the next breeze

There has never been a day where I don’t

stand like a windmill with my mouth open

Praying that I will finally get to catch my breath

I’ve stopped eating so that I might stretch myself so thin

The wind will take me like a kite

And

If I land in a tree

Please

leave me there

The leaves smell so sweet

They rustle in my ears the song

Of tiny feet scattering

In all the right directions

Can feel them tickle down my spine

Like an epiphany shiver

I got this itch to move

And I’m begin’ god for Dorothy’s tornado

To come and take me away

‘cause these legs walk me into all the wrong places

I want to be helpless to something more powerful than myself

Say

“I’m sorry I ****** things up

But this tornado

it planted me here in your lap”

Show you how it’s not my fault I’m not perfect

Nobody is

Doesn’t feel right though

The fire that made my heart

And the ocean that salted my tears

The wind that’s beggin’ to whisk me away from here

Is telling me otherwise

I think

Helium

Think

Feather

Think

Kite

Think

empty trash bag on the curb collapsing like a dying jellyfish

Tent city.

Do you see?
Do you?
Do you?
Do you care?
gaze into the future,
fear the past,
walk on by
without even batting an eye,
nose raised high,
only the high and mighty
can sniff the sky,
are you immune to the razors edge,
wiping the blood away,
as lost souls
watch with contempt,
humanity
slowly dies,
sorrows everywhere,
laying on curbsides
filled with pity,
full of puke,
gutters flowing in memories
no one cares for,
never to be treasured
or kept close to the heart,
not even to be carelessly
cast one side,
for whooo really cares,
its just frozen tears,
for who wants the
lonliness,despair,hurt,
the anger,
our hearts are full
of unbridled happiness,
we need no more,
burdens,
we have enough,
we know,
that those that walk this earth alone,
have no beauty,
no song,
just fear of life long gone,
hell passing by,
give me a nickel, a penny, a dime,
better yet,
give me your time,
an hello,
a goodbye,
an handshake, a tear,
a view of the sky,
tell me its ok,
tell me its ok,
even if you have to
lie!

gold grass, purple flowers
a white butterfly, flutter–whirl–
–not even may showers
can bring dead rivers back to blue

birds speak, spilled wind shudders
and gleaming ghost water mutters
as I sit, shy still and wonder
what this place was years before

before houses, metal fences, and red curbsides
before children learning and hoping
before everything went dry