flickering shells of streetlights
that glow that survives against
the long rainstorms
careening down valleys
that quickly euthanize themselves
in a false retreat towards life

                               (still, in the distance, there—
                                something that still seems so far away)

quiet clusters of thunderstorms
scattered around a blue blanket

ships sank at the call of the voice
they cried out in their crashing
against the waves of (now) utter doom

sinking to the bottom of the seafloor
to wither away; untouched by light
they go and go, away from now

to be remembered in
another time and place

calm, down a tired path
walks the poet, amazed
by earth and sky; more
bountiful and abundant
with its green sheen
separated by concrete,
brash and strong in its
indifference; where it
mends the wounds of time
and is resilient against
the aches of oblivion

sitting, revealing and absorbing
the quietness of a spring day in
the yard you grew up in
growing and dying like the plants
that surround your overgrown youth
that you can’t seem to let go of
equivalent in size to the universe
it heaves, begging for release

I woke up and it
was fall again, the
rain came in sheets this time

Hands touch, weary and
united in two, the
breaths come slower now.

I see you in Chicago,
where I first saw us, apart, in the future
I see you in Chicago,
where the film was shown a hundred times
I see you in Chicago,
where everyone asks where I’m going and I can’t seem to rip the words of my tongue,
I see you in Chicago,
where the endless roadtrip of drugs, alcohol and endless fantasy drove us through the unwise streets,
I see you in Chicago,
where you didn’t mind the mosquitoes of time biting into your skin,
I see you in Chicago,
where innocence and comfort meant nothing but bribery,
I see you in Chicago,
where you collapse into my arms again, exhausted, at the foot of my bed in the endless summer night.