Hey guys, this post comes from a series of prose poems I started about a year ago. I'll post one or two a week, so do the rumba, the samba, the two step and the white man shuffle.
travel logos 1
You me and everyone we ever hope to know comes caress like caress just to be seen. We dive into swimming pools, makeshift diving stances because we know we become nothing once we hit the water. You are diamond. I am bald circle. Around we become the same things as our parents when they were but twenty four and a half. You are ninety two. Stuck shoes on your feet because if you take them off now, you know you’ll stay. And staying is all night. And all night is a waste of all your god given vision. Come down, calm down, you are the open windows in my house that do not shield me from the music blaring down the street. It is an empty sound, you know, but it mocks me, calls me a loveless shorn shamble sweater. And it’s summertime. Ragweed and starched blankets white and hanging. Arrange the whole summer off to go to the beach and soak up sand and sandpipers. I always thought you were pretty, even as a child I didn’t know. Go back into your car. The highways, and these places of magic, are alone and lost without you. Mother to all travelers, rage and raven and ribbon. Unite us, guide us back. Home never again but just a place that is easy, soft, an orange hue, a place where children are allowed to be soulful scrambles. A place that is easily desired and never ever found. Damn this generation and damn me for being a part of it.