Fresh start (booze).
Keep the mindset of a 15 year old.
Forever afraid.
Shivering with cowardice.
Open up your eyes and fill them with everything around you.
Never regret.
"I can ogle whoever I want."
Forget nothing.
The menace of global vandalism.
Slap-happy with stickers on Seattle streets.
The riots and broken glass.
There was chaos for awhile
and everyone was excited.
Drag racer wraps himself around pole
murders himself outside boys window
who now is not excited to drive
as he once was.
as all kids are at his age.
Parents take the kid to parking lots in order to expedite.
Ace that test boy, else you'll get a whoopin.
This is a new day. Unlike others.
Beach front, missionary position.
the towel revealed nothing about your character.
you shook sand free and whisper sweet nothings
into the wind
making sure to spoil my picnic.
ants come marching in
carrying my lunch meat and lunch cheese
in fragments
on tiny backs.
built to carry heavy things.
allowed self to sleep peacefully. fully consumed in the foreign comfort of natural awakening.
wait until the day gets too hot and let that heat wake me
sheets soak in sweat.
where were you when I'm at my best?
"frightened little kitten gunna act like a lion now."
Car full of kids cut in front of me. I sped to keep up but switched lanes. Blasting music and singing along. Girl with dark eyes in the passenger seat mesmerizing and I glance between her and the road multiple times. On Fallbrook. They took a left on Ventura but I went straight. Where were they heading? Somewhere I should be? The girl in the car... single? Married? I felt a huge stirring in my heart when they turned off, I'd hoped our fates would intermingle for some impossible reason. I wanted to follow them ask they how they were faring. Were they making it on their own or spending their parents money still? Money does not rule everything now does it? I would have asked and smoked pot and found answers. They were perfect and inseparable. I will never dream of seeing them again.
Strange how a stranger can arrest all motion and pause any mental activity. Virtually flat-lining while standing in line at the coffee shop, or walking down the street just to see what might be on the other side of the bigger hill. The small hill, over it, are only rich houses and poor souls. They hire gardeners and pride themselves in their gardens.
I have stopped in the middle of many streets at a glimpse. 'Will our paths ever cross again?' our eyes say to each other. Probably not, we figure, sad. There is a magnetism between some eyes and mine. It is infuriating and we are all to blame for rarely acting on these impulses. I should have warned you that I am a lunatic writing, parable-minded, parallax-hounding, paradigm-shifting, eccentric college drop out. Temporary of course.
