A vandal broke into the high school
orchestra room after dark
at the end of the semester.
Whoever it was left only splinters
and coils of metal cord
scattered around the chamber.
A few crushed beer cans also
stood among the wreckage
surprising none of the police
or shaken faculty.
I’m not walking all that way,
back to the bent tree
where I left behind
my jacket.
The bad dreams ring louder
like annoying late night cable ads.
A faceless old man
with a rusted rake sliding it
across the metal walls
of a work shed.
Girls in white shirts sip on colorful drinks on the wooden deck over the street.
Read More DepartureLights spiral on the sides
of rain soaked buildings,
and I have gotten so much wrong.
Dissociating girls don’t blink
they just stare at the doorway
and listen for footsteps
or doors opened loudly nearby.
New gates up
in the neighborhood
cast iron always
way too hot to climb.
Brown hair pulled back into a ponytail
the oak tree leaves like emeralds
in the foreground.
I take apart the breaker box,
while some kid draws a smirking
face across the stop sign
where the backyard
makes its contact
with the street.
