Poetry

You think it was a regular thing / You remember it being a tradition

But then, steepness is relative / to where you’re standing / and how tall you are

I remember it / clear and cloudless as the skies / that were always blue in those days

Flutter, black flag / in the light breeze / Tremble / fade to every shade / in none

What if I could get / higher / What if I can / if I try / What if I don’t

These lines were meant to trace / a map we all could follow

Don’t try to fall asleep / just rest your body / and rest will come / when it’s meant to

On the front of the garage / above a wall that was a door / is a metal loop / screwed to crumbling melamine

Barbie Dream House on the curb

The wheels on the suitcase / go round and round