(no subject)
i sat in the back seat
i sat in the back seat with apparitions of past passengers
i felt the reverberations of your fucks in the seat cushion
the warm shifting of bodies was sewn into the threads.
the beach sand in the seams was a reminder
of the only season worth remembering,
winter a time to be quiet
spring a time to run out of money made last summer
autumn a time for worms and pillbugs
we sped through autumn.
i was low in the seat and could only see treetops outside
we skateboarded together in circles around the parking lot
making up new slang and pounding thirty cent juice bottles.
one time a little black kid went through my backpack
i found my stuff littered around the railroad tracks
i couldn't do tricks but i could roll around
as drunks strolled the sidewalks
irrationally angry and punching out windows.
i hopped on and off of curbs and scuffed my jeans
and found out later i ripped my knees open underneath.
i skidded out to avoid cars and tore open my shoes
and found out later my toenails were painted blood underneath
all of our headaches accumulate in our brain
held aloft by circuits in the sanctuary of our skulls
all of our heartaches float in a reservoir of tears
in the inner sanctum of our chests,
i have a heart that pumps
even when i don't want it to
so i guess i'm meant to be alive.
i could see the clouds meditating
i could feel the wind unleashed
breezes ricocheting through the streets
so we followed them as they blew,
i fell asleep in the backseat and when i awoke
we were parked at the beach
and you were bringing in more beach sand for the seats.
i felt weird for sleeping back there because that's where you liked to fuck
claustrophobic girls scream louder you said but i didn't laugh
i wondered if we caught one of the breezes we were chasing
i wondered what we would do with it if we caught it
could i talk into the breeze and let it go, would it find a good listener?
could i fall asleep again back here and never skateboard again?
my body is out of energy
thoughts are my only possession
i have a lot left over to go through.
i sat in the back seat with apparitions of past passengers
i felt the reverberations of your fucks in the seat cushion
the warm shifting of bodies was sewn into the threads.
the beach sand in the seams was a reminder
of the only season worth remembering,
winter a time to be quiet
spring a time to run out of money made last summer
autumn a time for worms and pillbugs
we sped through autumn.
i was low in the seat and could only see treetops outside
we skateboarded together in circles around the parking lot
making up new slang and pounding thirty cent juice bottles.
one time a little black kid went through my backpack
i found my stuff littered around the railroad tracks
i couldn't do tricks but i could roll around
as drunks strolled the sidewalks
irrationally angry and punching out windows.
i hopped on and off of curbs and scuffed my jeans
and found out later i ripped my knees open underneath.
i skidded out to avoid cars and tore open my shoes
and found out later my toenails were painted blood underneath
all of our headaches accumulate in our brain
held aloft by circuits in the sanctuary of our skulls
all of our heartaches float in a reservoir of tears
in the inner sanctum of our chests,
i have a heart that pumps
even when i don't want it to
so i guess i'm meant to be alive.
i could see the clouds meditating
i could feel the wind unleashed
breezes ricocheting through the streets
so we followed them as they blew,
i fell asleep in the backseat and when i awoke
we were parked at the beach
and you were bringing in more beach sand for the seats.
i felt weird for sleeping back there because that's where you liked to fuck
claustrophobic girls scream louder you said but i didn't laugh
i wondered if we caught one of the breezes we were chasing
i wondered what we would do with it if we caught it
could i talk into the breeze and let it go, would it find a good listener?
could i fall asleep again back here and never skateboard again?
my body is out of energy
thoughts are my only possession
i have a lot left over to go through.