Scared for One an’ Other

Black and smooth like the coral comb from the circus
I saw it through the window on the other side
The moving car, moved alongside the moving walls
While a yellow line rode still in vision of me
Headphones at large whispered to a bobbing beat
When I saw it
The shadows behind me in a glass box
Only gesturing at conversation,
They lost their wind and fell on themselves
The explosion a ghost red, simmering in a graceful yellow
I saw it
Lightning thrown against glass after a faithless rumble
Unlike pieces racing to join another
The glass raced like that into my hair and scalp
‘Till it slid to one side, ’till the cheek hit the seat
‘Till the flecks of color made a world of sense
Man bled, but to us I was one, an other.

Over a Presidente

He seemed too tall, sly with a tilting smile.
He tried too hard, pulling mass-produced slopes with his hair.
He wore too much black as if to take himself too seriously.
He had dull friends with nothing to shine but the light off their skin.
He called himself an asshole but said he’d prove himself wrong.
He boasted alternatives and freedom; too hopeful for his age.
He smiled under pondering fingers and blooming eyes when I quieted him.
He tried to explain himself but my fingers closed and the flappers shut.
He was an asshole meeting a stranger for the first time.

Bygone

Wet sand after the tide left

The shore crawls with life, before ignored

Felt it on the skin, while their hard toes poked

the grit of sand coarse against the teeth,

I said goodbye.