night walk

 

layla and her kids

sleep on a bridge

that frowns over the freeway

 

wrapped in blankets on a yellow slab of foam,

the baby is silent despite the sirens

 

cars whizz by below us

and i pass layla a smoke

 

so many people are off to house parties and hookups

shitty horror movies and football games,

her son jace says

 

he spits off the guardrail

the city put around the bridge

to stop people from jumping

 

it lands on a windshield

and he laughs and i laugh

and i smoke and he doesn’t

 

the car lessens to light

and i pretend i don’t hear jace

when he asks if joy

 

is a currency

we should spend

all at once

 

since we’re bound to be

robbed of it

one of these nights

 

 

 

hoop behind the church

 

there’s a blood stain

by the free throw line

 

i pick up a pebble

and toss it

at the crooked rim

 

i’ve never told you this

but i used to play around-the-world

every night

 

and i couldn’t leave the court

until i won

without chancing a single shot

 

the last time i went to church

i was squared up on the wing

 

when someone screamed from the dark

past the dumpster

 

a girl came rushing at me,

blood snaking down her chin

 

two men emerged behind her

she grabbed at my shirt

and i dropped the ball

 

the first man pushed her off me

and pulled me into his fist

 

my ears rang as i hit the street,

eyes melting down my cheek

into my mouth

 

the second man pounded her head

into the sidewalk curb

over and over

 

and i lunged to stand

but the first man pulled his gun

 

those minutes felt like years,

to watch someone in agony

and have to sit in their blood

 

she and i cried together

in the morning quiet,

waiting for the paramedics

 

and i held her head in my lap

as if she’d just been born

 

 

 

all my generation wants

 

I.

 

is to be happy,

exist and make love

on the couch at noon

 

we wanna drink in lawn chairs

in the front yard after lunch

 

hug our parents

and eat dinner

with our kids

at night

 

none of my friends

will ever own a home

 

we’ll be lucky

to pay rent by friday,

 

keep ham and swiss

in the fridge

thru the weekend

 

i had a dream last night

i was sitting

 

i wasn’t doing anything else

 

i was just sitting

in a chair

 

and it was fuckin

great

 

let’s make out behind the baseball fields

in the far back of the parking lot

with our lights off

 

let’s explore the universe

of each other

and wade through the ravine of ourselves

 

we can break into the high school,

shatter the window

of one of those old classrooms

then board it right back up

 

II.

 

there’s a war outside

so don’t turn on the lights

 

just lay with me on the carpet

under a desk

and we’ll grieve

 

for the soft spots

of youth

that taste like

old fruit,

 

for the orange slice

moon

that’s dry of juice