the fleece is out.

the sun creeps in through a broken blind.

my feet are dirty from the kitchen to bedroom crossing.

the smell of eggs lingers in from the stove top.

my shirt is pressed, clean lines & nice new hair cut.

the heart is rendered for the day & free from yesterday.

the chalk outline of a man welcomes me to my car as i fumble with

my keys & two arms full of baggage.

i wink at the man in the window.

he knows & i know that today is today.

something the both of us have never seen before.

something we could never expect but have expectations for.

i sit in the warmth & silence before starting this thing

& pause for endurance.

an extra leg.

i pull back the curtains, take a deep breath, & go under.

it's beautiful down here.

free & alive, quiet & peaceful.

even as a child, i knew this was where i belonged.

never really could make since of that until now.

so here i am.

we wake up & shake off the residue of dreams.

clothe ourselves in comfort & apathy

& turn to face the day with empty chambers

& swordless sheaths.

we clamber & fumble through the days

with uncertainty & doubt.

we wonder why our toes are always so swollen.

then one day our enemy toys with us no more.

he takes our arms & our legs & our heads.

leaves us limbless & blind, to crawl helplessly 

back to our beds.

& we dream. 

i walk the dark street.

the one where all the lights have been shot out.

there's always a rain puddle or two.

the buildings that the sidewalks hold up never have a light on.

i'm not even sure anyone lives there.

all the parking meters have been be-headed.

surely, a car hasn't lined the curb in years.

the king's of it's alley arms walk on all fours,

& never look me in the eye or extend a word of conversation.

the wind seems to blow a little harder & more direct this time of night.

i walk the dark street,

& i love it.

not in a million years, but if you were to pass me on this street,

you'd see a smile on my face and hear the song that resonates between my ears

& somewhere just behind my eyes.

i get it.

it's my street.

& every night, just as i turn the corner to head home,

i'm exposed to the other streets.

loud & busy.

bright with light & distraction.

i approach my front door & every time, 

realize i'm not smiling anymore.

then i close the door behind me, slide to the floor, close my eyes,

& go back there.

ambling in the dark...

not afraid, but smiling.

the wanderer #3

his eyes bit into the back of his skull as they violently tried to recoil the first sight of the sun in months. realizing how long it had really been since he saw natural light suddenly made him take measure of all that he had become over the last half of a year. going into "the den", he was a scared, fresh-faced boy in his early twenties. not really knowing what life was all about & still desperately relying on the wings of his older brother. now, as he caught his image in the smeared reflection of a rotting city bus, he saw something completely foreign. a man stared back at him. a man he would never have expected to know in his previous life; but now, in the wake of all that had occurred, a man he had watched hatch from the green flesh of a frightened boy that had to start the world over way before he was intended to. he closed his eyes. if he could still cry, he would, but he knew that that part of him had been stripped away. he had cried when he realized he may have lost everything on the surface. he had cried when the two from New Sydney had left to look for water & never returned. he had cried when he stopped hearing the faint rhythm of civilization above him, and he cried when he woke & found his brother, hanging with his belt around his neck. that was the last time. the tears shut off after that.

we are broken down works of excellence.

covered in the dust of lying & deceiving years.

rusted through with selfishness & apathy.

a piece of junk that passer's by would discard at first glance.

He awaits the spark.

the inclination in our motherboards that seeks retribution.

the second that flint is fired, we come alive.

the dust and rust shake free

& revolutions begin a slow spin.

something that took years to mar & batter

becomes pristine again in the blink of an eye.

the spark, the inclination...starts in us.

i choose.

i wake up in the morning, & it crawls on top of me.

i'd shake it off if i could.

or leave it to warm me.

in the shower sometimes i scrub so hard i bleed,

but it doesn't go away.

it's my shadow that follows me through the day.

most of the time, it's my best friend & i'm so glad it's there.

other times, i scream at the top of my lungs

as to why it's there & what it wants from me.

it's a beast that i want to tame.

but it's a beast & beasts don't tame easy.

why am i here?

why now?

what the heck is going on?

i'd love so much to see you for the first time.

i believe our lives would overwhelm us.

our bloody knees will stick together.

we'll never wonder/wander again

& we'll never have a question in our minds.

the beast sleeps & whispers answers in his dreams.

this is why i'm here.

this is why it won't go away.

i believe.

i believe.

i believe.

rain & thunder will come.

wind will tear at the roof.

lightning will do it's best but i will stand.

this house has a hope.

far from the surface of man

& far from the reaches of the storm.

do your worst.

watch yourself.

be of sound mind.

look into the depths.