someday somebodys gonna ask you
a question that you should say yes to

watching flower petals wilt
uninspired by boring desks

he's drinking a beer
free
out there
in a
readytosnow world
while i sit here
at a desk
working
one-fourth heartedly
wishing
i were there

beat
drink
love

i wrote him a poem
in spanish
he said
he felt like he was on fire

fueg . . . something
os... es... as...

signed his journal

fuegos....

i told him about it
he read it
and rolled his eyes

i wanted to set him

on fueg.....something

radiation
radiating
love
loving
bombs
bombing
mass murderers
mass murdering
dreams
dreaming
waiter
waiting
drinker
drinking
fighters
fighting


i am tired
this coffee doesn't help
headache
the size of georgia
sunrise
sinking
in my living room
where i feel
like im dying

i was asked by the bodhi
if the me at
nine
would like the me at
twenty nine
i asked him him if he was hungry

and you can live
in my bomb shelter
when the fall out
falls out
cranking the vinyl
mama cass
shaking around the cement
as we eat pancakes
and rice
remembering blue skies
and grass
you can recreate rome
in a play
with socks
and i can
recite you bob dylan
while you barricade the doors
drinking wine
waiting for the wind to come

woken
but not yet
awake
staring into darkness
wishing
someone
was
awake
having been woken
by my breath

thinking of arbor hill and art exhibits in november emphasizing the differences

there is a midnight
somewhere
as i stand
in my own shadow
here

with children not sleeping
walking
streets til dawn

with fathers not planning
futures
lost on the moment

with mothers not weeping
wandering
effortlessly careless unamused

street lights flicker off on off
nothings changed
just hours moved
hours like seconds
if not
less than
perfect in its imperfection
art gained
on the interpretation
of outsiders
looking in

snapshots
oils
mosaics

sad baby eyes
crumbled buildings
handcuff designs
and
all the white people cry
as they outbid one another to have something
real
so real
so beautiful
so touching
in their living room
so all their white friends
who come to dinner
can cry too
wish they had been there to buy it
wanting one of their own
because they know
they feel it
they
sympathize
empathize
they were told they were so compassionate once in middle school
and well
they are
they dont lock their doors when they drive through - the car does that when you put it in drive
they dont avoid contact - they have to watch the road, they are careful drivers
they dont not stop at gas station - they just have gas and besides the one up on Madison is cheaper
they dont have to prove themselves to anyone - they have plenty of black friends
henry for example
he's from detroit
if that's not a fine example
well, i dont know what is
ol henry he was from what some call the 'ghetto' and he made it out
he went to college
henry's a doctor in boston
he's black
i like him
see i dont have a problem
that's why i want a painting
i bet henry'd like that painting too


there is a midnight
somewhere
as i stand
in my own shadow
here

with children not sleeping
walking
streets til dawn

with fathers not planning
futures
lost on the moment

with mothers not weeping
wandering
effortlessly careless unamused

street lights flicker off on off
nothings changed
just hours moved
hours like seconds
if not
less than
perfect