Work Text:
The sounds of Lake Michigan fills the gaps
Of radio-silence ins of alley backs
And out past Sheridan’s pavement, vast,
The city sailor casts his mast.
My body walks lakeside as my soul naps,
Hibernates as my mind maps,
Reworks the prints of what had been planned,
It downsizes to the palm of my hand.
I sit down low on the school lawn
As autumn takes on solstice’s dawn
And I ground myself,
Claw into soil’s wealth,
Lick my dirt-filled nails,
This is my self.
Spectacle,
I give them a show
With every hip and bone I throw,
One in front of another, my brow,
Furrowed,
Lips pursed and high nose
Above, above,
I hover, look below,
Hate every person I pass
Every land I cover and mass
The cloth that hangs from my frame,
My watered-down neighborhood fame,
Morality and its restraints,
Sin and the idea of pain
And peace and any pitiful stakes,
Because I’ve lost a game I signed up to play,
Challenged it and gave it my name
For it to grab me by my neck and take me away.