Saturday, April 22, 2017

This Will Be On the Test

Over a month in nothing
but rocks and sand
and shivering then
sweating, fever dreams
for people who wouldn’t
stick around and no one
came looking, it was a long trip,
people had families
and this was his thing,
training, practice
for the final: abandonment

and thirst.   

Books I Read in Highschool

I read a book with
hell as sprawl
like suburbs or
Houston expanding
like space and everyone
moved further and further away
they complained
about public transit
there were no conversations
except self-talk
arguments about neighbors
who lived out-of-sight
and I thought it was clever
and creative but
now I have coffee dates
scheduled a month in advance
with college friends
who will be moving soon to
states with reasonable
property values to
buy homes and
have kids whose names
I’ll forget with faces
seen occasionally
on screens flickering
in a dark but affordable
studio apartment that
isn’t a metaphor.

All Grown-Up

No one ever told me,
that’s a lie (probably),
but it allows some anger
to disturb the lethargy.

People were always droning
on about growing-up.
Warnings I didn’t hear.
I listened to myself, and ska.

I didn’t envision: crying bored,
staring over plain oatmeal
at ugly house-plants, hour-long
walks looping around

gentrifying neighborhoods
waiting for the sun to finish,
an early bedtime and another bowl
of oatmeal to start it again.