they was kind

they was quiet when i
expected noise and heat 
my vertebrae rolled in with laundry
screwed down by the
street spine up like train tracks 
over the sierras. i thanked god
they was kind. only heat the machine 
my life dry spun the rain 
came down in sheets


permanently pressed

today i am light
i am even
grown up
from the nitro
blackish wet

i am liking to work
with the life
i have

with what i have left of life
not like before

permanently pressed
into residual urban
cold cascade of landscapes

i was doomed
and dark and

was then