They Put Coltrane in a Cage

[johnnyruin]

You have marked hands that touch
everything:
restlessly handling dials that control radio drone scanning voices master static all the time just
looking for life on the band red lines that pulse and find no one
marked hands that touch
red paint leaving trails like life gone wrong down the sides of buildings too tall to begin with and a long streak down sidecars from a one-way railroad crossing umanned and off kilter in the rain
marked hands that touch
citrus from sex in orange groves green leaves and blue skies that go grey over the sudden uprising of ponderous
sidewalks made from sweat and metal silence and time silence and time silence and time
marked hands that touch
lottery ticket notes written by homeless men urgent afternoon letters taped to doors creating
feelings you can't comprehend feelings you can never get back feelings of people you knew
marked hands that touch
loneliness of the midnight customers at 7-11 loneliness of the afterschool professors at community colleges loneliness of the mild housewives at cocktail parties and unimportant surgeons
marked hands that touch
old movies dark rooms popcorn and generic soda people in a room not connecting making you sick and shouting for familiar arms for closed mouths/eyes open ears/hearts flap of an empty reel
marked hands that touch
left/right/wrong a standard for beauty no standard for beauty blinked and missed it blew and wished it
for you me him and her all the children looking for the fastest route to the sky
marked hands that touch
two boys in a room speaking of music like math dividing up souls with knives and the kind of wisdom
that never gets you anywhere just two boys laughing in a room without a clue
marked hands that touch
everything:
that matters learn to be unafraid when new things cut fingers obscuring identities raise voices clear faces without tears but could not handle girls who never say goodbye