space invaders

the sun’s symphony softly closes
and my daytime mind slows down
when the day reaches it’s finale
a hurricane meandering to pause.

i chose this street because it’s quiet.

it’s a piece of something constant and true
in a puzzle of kaleidoscopic uniformity,
square peg real-world things that matter.

there are bags to be emptied and bottles to be filled
items to be reused and waste to be carried out
from the inconsequential journeys of the day.

i juggle it all gratefully, lost in thoughts
as i curse looking for my keys.

(i’m quite good at losing things, and keep thinking about the time…)

walking out my musings
next to cars haphazardly tucked in for the night
i admire how they rest after battling the cities’ woes.

I seek one that’s recognizable.

yours or yours or yours
the lessee with the most guts wins.

 a catch-22 of moving meditation
i’m progeny of performers and villains
taught to live behind a nautical mask.

belonging to everyone
a shy home is where my heart is
a frontless destination
with a cryptic code to get in.

sometimes i leave a key beneath the mat
for those who make sense and why.
if you simply told me why, i’d believe you.
like the cleaning ladies, for example.

many fear the state of disarray
but i’d do anything to see you.

everything we construct requires assembly
and discarded scraps fall to the floor while we build.

i feel too protective for prowess,
preferring mere particles of dreams over rubble.

Deep scuffs on hardwood floors are difficult to conceal.

but in this town we lose track of ourselves.
“friends” can be contemporaries, faceless peers
in the pursuit of their own fluffy white dreams-
a trust-free future with no resting place substitutes well for the present.

i turn from the street to my building
ducking from long arms of palms reaching out to embrace.
my doorstep comes to view and i sigh
from happiness to be home, and the wonder if someday you’ll be there.

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