The water drips down my bottle and back into the ocean.
It’s almost 2006 all over again.
The electricity surrounds me with the lights off.
Cue the gloom?
Let me get a Rob Roy.
Are you a regular here?
This is Manhattan.
And you’re no married type.
But you are.
Remember Pasadena.
Roses grow here, there, and here.
But you already knew that.
Knew how I crumbled with an “I’m proud.”
But I never heard it.
I was lost in the Long Beach cloud.
It never stopped raining.
I was playing with fire.
You brought the ice
after I danced with her.
We all laughed for hours.
Locked notes in origami.
Clokey characters defined.
A future 17-mile drive.
All based on a lie.
A night of Smashing Pumpkins.
You all thought you were so funny.
“Can I kiss you?”
Such a sweetheart.
A piano player and a guitarist
make the most beautiful music together.
But no one hears
it.
A heartbreak at “fucking Yucca.”
Do you remember that?
They really do that.
That’s why you’re a favorite.
I read those lines better than you,
but there’s only room for one lead.
You handled it like a champ.
I stood up there to feed.
You were so mad.
Best show ever.
She was really hot.
Quiet for two hours home.
They all heard it.
All of them.
She would never eat at a place like this.
That’s her favorite seat.
Like a lost hiker in the night,
I go north.
The exit?
Olive.
Like a bird flying in the spring,
I go north.
The exit?
Olive.
Doesn’t realize the effect
when I go north.
The exit?
Olive.
Right now it’s not looking good
as I try go north.
The exit?
Olive.
But I will conquer this road.
I’m heading north.
The exit?
Olive.
My hands are full
and scarlet.
They won’t open the gate for me.
I don’t belong in there, I’m told.
I asked them why.
He told me.
I conceded.
“We’re all guilty.”
They haven’t made it there yet.
Not sure if they will.
How can I get in
if I’ve never met the king?
I turned around.
I don’t belong there.
There has to be another place
hiding between the stars.
I can taste the silver,
the slight reflection from the slight light.
Tears flow down the river.
I am home for the first time.
Crossing the moat,
I get chills from the cold
water pouring into my vision,
fuzzy.
The drawbridge hangs.
Around me are flying swords,
bow and arrows.
Musical notes.
In this time of scary ghosts and trick-or-treat,
the orange sky flirts with the rainfall.
I absorb it through the open glass.
You can touch the crisp cold.
Silhouettes of leaves on the branches
resemble dim lights on a Christmas tree.
If only we could light them
then maybe others could spot the beauty.
Fall into the hole.
I can see it on your face.
It’s broken.
But pick yourself back up.
Say what you think.
Say what you mean
Hold it in your court.
Ricochet off your heart.
And into the color!
And into my arms.
Follow the road into the stars.
The ones we saw through the looking glass.
Don’t listen to the bird,
it’s lying.
The roses don’t speak
in the belt.
To stand atop this star,
laying our eyes on the speed down below.
It was easy to breathe with time.
We are what make this shine.
We have to land eventually.
So, let us teach them what we’ve seen.
Something of a tiny atom brain.
We are all the same.
Remember the beauty?
I found it, hiding underneath the shade
from the trees that lie overhead.
Remember the snow?
It poured on our faces.
We tasted.
A Thanksgiving gift awaits you.
I couldn’t be more happy for you.
Bring him in.
Show him all you know.
Teach him how to see,
how to love everyone.
I can say without looking that I want it.
Look ma, no hands.
I’m not usually sure,
but of this I am.
We can sail on this spaceship,
I can take you away for a while.
And sometimes, just to keep mine up,
I memorize your smile.