Shortlived Heartbroke bone

I leave my building and walk down the street, a sightless thinker wondering if he'll see what it is he'll bump into when he does. I walk with a stone in my stomach. You bite into it from time to time like an apple and then you spit it out, wondering again why it still tastes like a damn rock. I am sloped, and slide through town surely enough but uneasily, like quarters sliding off a sheet of paper that splash onto the floor, which you pick up and try to offer me and look confused when I say 'those aren't mine no way.'

I walk past a homeless man who raises an eyebrow at me, and my thoughts spill down my pant legs and into my shoes and overflow onto the sidewalk and I am convinced that this is not real, I am convinced. I laugh, amazed that your elephantine hands still pull at the street corners of my reality. And then I stop laughing and as the smile wears off I say 'you fucking stop it right now,' and you do and I stare at you, unconvinced.

As I walk through my thoughts the bricks blur in and out of focus, and I chew at the skin on my lip and look around, still sightless. I get a drink from the drink machine at the barbershop and leave the change. As I slink back to my building the stone in my stomach rocks back and forth, making sounds like upstairs neighbors, and my feet hit the pavement flippantly.

Down towards the viaduct a flock expands up into the air, and I look up at the sky and decide for once to just stop not flying.

Never forget that wherever you go there will still be ground underneath your feet

width and breadth

august's depth

the pressure of water

broken seal, limbless, inside tree roots, cross and withered.

"A depth of knowledge," for what?

where am I? where am I?

A cruise through broken glass on accident

where's my face? where's my face?

A frying pan in the cabinet, tossed.

under a blanket I can see my feet and yours.

can't complete, can't complete.

a pleated skirt and a smile maybe.

let's build a fort, let's build a fort,

and tear it down when we want,

If you want.

where are you? where are you?

where are you?

I'd like to be there, too.

Fresh out the oven this fine mornin.

I'm dizzy.
Touches world with lightest heart.
Keeps world close,
Sunrise dose of clarity.
Suspended leaves, cherry grieves aplenty.
Cross-section of me:
Bitter moth-maker
City slicker
Craven and wild, come on.
Charity he lifts a deck of cards, poised.
Balanced, afraid.
Refined, reclined, trust me.
Busted open like who is--
Table-top. Another one, another one, another one,
Another one, un-other won,
Another one, another one.
And another.

A Brief Reflection

June, 22, 2010 (Inspired by The Books)

I've seen the furrowed brow of nothing,

The aching joints of something else,

The healing bones of where I was,

The flagship of misery, rocking back and forth.

And I've seen the droves of wandering youngsters,

not sure.

The despairing searching tree branches winding

through the air I breathe at night.

And the tepid walk on frosted grass,

the reluctant steps and frozen knuckles,

The closed jaw tight with disbelief,

the heavy eyelids, blinking, "are you kidding me?"

Bones healing healing.