last dream in august

this morning i am early to rise
a dream i had stays with me
but i do not realize until
i get a call from my best friend
who also is early to rise

i begin to share with him my dream
for he was in it and in it
i dialed 911 because i was worried
about him

the officer on the phone
listened and asked me questions
then calmed me and reassured me
it was good that i called and said

i had no need to worry any longer
about my friend. and
gave me a bible verse
Corinthians 3:16

i remember!
my friend asks me do i know the verse?
i do not and i do not
 often read my bible anymore
when i look up the verse i
cannot even get through it
without fighting back tears
Do you not know that you 
are the temple of God 
and that the Spirit 
of God dwells in you?


life got painful you
could not take it anymore so
you found a corner
to cut you got caught you
were young
that’s what we do
we make mistakes
we are reckless
learning to live
today the pearls are strung
thrice around your neck
turkish coffee drips into ceramic
sheltered by hands
translucent like newborn sea shells
all that ever happened
in your eyes


colorless moments of stressed
inhibition must i be always backed
into a corner before
i come fighting?
a sea of bad news and brake lights
ahead. even tears and smiles
a stretch
from that place of half
flag summer fatigue
arose a current
we opened two walls
the windows
life came into the trees i
awoke feeling different all
the colors returned
time was no longer just a waiting
for work there was meaning it
was personal it was
yours it was mine


i was moody
i was ready i was
running through a field
i was young i was
i was heading for a fall
you were walking
you were friendly eating raspberries
off the bush
you were older
and reticent and you
wanted to protect me
we were unlikely bound for friendship
in a deep and southern
town we drank orange juice
walked the shoreline painted
fences stood us

life @25

1998. love life lacking. movement from ocean side of florida to inner city chicago. dreams of cultural context to inspire, a wealth of journal entries in a leather bound book given me by my brother. i ride on two wheels manufactured by japan. running away from something, i don’t know what. i haven’t learned anything outside of books. i hunger for the streets. i don’t know why. i had it really good. privilege. soft and sea bound. i am about to get what i asked for and get my ass kicked @ 25. willingly.


We do not randomly end up a hundred miles an hour wrong way fireballing on the freeway, taking lives along with us to the other side. maybe we got deadnamed or bullied or beaten one too many times. maybe we lived in addictionland. whatever it was, these seemingly random acts are rarely so. someone turned offways long ago.