I was
innocent back then. we all lose it. some women deserve worship. a friend
lost his trial, forfeited life, left kids behind. another
woman, too much to relate to, most shower with boxers on. I try to respect the cartoon, the false
movie, the self-improving perception—as danger lingers, cars and drugs, we all
need a Kerry; three died in a massacre, I couldn’t find myself, another was so
cool, a maniac, a dear psychotic. I tear
up, to see his face, too many died on that one. I left it to souls, grateful for the lawyer,
walking, stifled, whole courtroom nodding heads. mutual combat, a soul was chunked out, but
he swerved first; two locking arms, one hit too hard, hit concrete in
convulsions—chewed his tongue off—the penalty for that life. what in skies the bleeding sun as it drips
into another cartoon; brothers laugh too much, I love the real comedians, it’s
hell in a valley, near an alley, face filled with holes and pebbles. a ghetto reality. I feel
some cringing. like, what! yes, so crazed, such a complaint, so
epistemic lately. never did that,
wasn’t on that ride, can’t ride those concerns; like voodoo stairs, like granny
cares, like boxes with keys; the fury of the sanctity, so sane it hurts,
feeling some strange ass person. to wonder on level, to feel so lenient, as to distress
a stranger. I find a true reality,
most people don’t know about physicality, nor do they care, either give / or
walk away. months passed. I visited
his grave. I was manic for him. I cried like guts ruined. something shifted, to
change my life, like a million on five senses.
