This is part of a story I hope to finish someday

Nic wrote his name in the ground, stared at it, watched the lines slither and warp. It moved as fluid as Nic’s own hands, and body. He tried to understand the way the lines moved by letting his own hips shake like a belly-dancer. Not working, Nic thought, but this dance feels fun. Funny.
“This chalk is fucking fantastic!” Matt said. “Great idea Cambray, such a great idea.”
Four hours in, how long had they been drawing on the sidewalks?
“I see my name, it’s so weird. Look at my name. Is that me?” Nic had been struggling to comprehend those letters for, it seemed, seven minutes now. What did they mean, really? “It’s like a mirror of my physicality. But I don’t—it’s not—it’s a prison of misunderstanding. Misrepresentation.”
“I can’t see it!” Cambray said. “It just looks like lines. But, wow, the color is amazing. It jumps out, and I can feel it! Vibrancy. Aura. Color is so beautiful. I hope I don’t ever go colorblind.”
“A mirror of my body, the vessel that carries my heart and soul!” Nic said. They burst out in laughter, and Matt threw himself to the grass, rolling about. And Nic saw that the grass was paint, and that Matt was coming alive in it, neon green on his clothes, his hair.
Matt drew his name on the sidewalk. “Shit! It’s so foreign isn’t it? It’s like…it’s not me. Am I Matt? Matt. Matt. Matthew. Matt. Matthew.” He touched his fingers to the ground, tracing the letters.
“Matthew? Matthew? It’s not you, Matt. Matt is not you. You are you. Matt is not you.” Cambray said. Nic agreed vigorously. No, Matt was not green. Matt was Matt.
They moved down the sidewalk, Cambray trailed a line of blue chalk. “If we get lost, we can follow this line back from whence we came.”
Onwards they travelled, and they passed a bum peeing on the sidewalk. The urine flared up and subsided, darkening the side of the wall and the ground. Acidic steam rose as it melted the pavement. The man turned and smiled a toothy grin. “Did that bum just piss on you Matt?” Nic said.
“What! Shit! Are my jeans pissed on?”
“Is it damp? Feel your leg. Touch it,” Cambray said, trying not to laugh.
“Oh shit! I don’t know! What the hell! I don’t know!”
They came across a bench on the sidewalk. It sat beside a little pool of water surrounded by swaying, blooming flowers. They spoke, they whispered things to Nic that he could not understand. A sign stapled to a tree shouted, “THIS IS A PUBLIC PARK. YOU ARE UNDER CAMERA SURVEILLANCE.”
They sat on the bench, felt the cars rumble past, saw the dogs walking their owners.
“Thanks for convincing me. I’m so happy we did this together,” Nic said.
“No, no Nic. Thank you. I thank you and Cambray,” Matt said.
“No, I thank the Lord our Savior and Father...and Lord our Jesus for this time we’ve each spent together,” Cambray said.
They put their arms around each other and pushed their heads together, laughing and grinning.
“We’re golden children,” Matt said.
They lifted their hands to the sky. The sun had set its course, down the horizon. It flung its finale up across the trundling clouds. And they were brought to life in a reverberation of fiery light. They were wrought in pink cotton, transformed into elephants grazing the heavens.
“I feel like we are the greatest underdog sports team ever,” Nic said.


Silver Saxaphones

affection flitting filtered
in a bucket of mud
under the rain

soil slipped shoes
down the hill I
ponder weights thrown
down the sole you
walked me to my room
I would walk you to yours

under drunken stars
your breath swept up mine
sotto voce
and I thought on a crevice
of another time
where I was tired
and you were tired

I think I would like to move away now.



a girl jumped from the 2nd floor of pigott today
"I'm gonna do it!" she probably said, over and over, for 30 minutes.
and when she finally did it, she sprained her ankle or something.
"Go big or go home!" someone wanted to yell
but then thought, "nah, you can't joke about this shit
out in public, and in front of all these police."
"The stress!" she probably thought, "It's too much!"
of course, she couldn't have thought it was a suicide attempt,
being one measly floor up.
maybe this was simply her "stress relief activity",
similar to the "dog stress relief" party that they always have during finals week
all that stress was in her foot,
and she totally said, "fuck you, stress"
good for her
good for her
fuck work before it fucks you.
she's smarter than anyone I know.
(is she "hot"?
is she single?)
also, it was a nice distraction
for everyone else.
"we're all in the same boat" the girl probably thought,
"so I'll give of myself to these people."
we can all learn a thing or two
from my future wife, faux-suicide girl,
the sexiest, most giving woman to fall on the planet


Some kind of stress

jumble drunk mind--
set on restitution
in a keyboard
I'll seek my God in a pill
and if that doesn't work
I'll distress and cry Jesus
and if that doesn't work
I'll stagger on towards time
and hope to fall on the other side