Outlaws

We were outlaw children
stealing DVDs and chocolate
tagging streetlights
in the midst of every getaway.
The long days
could not betray us
ankle deep in streams
that cut the highways
into pieces.

Mark

I see pieces of the world
break off like shattered ice.
City clocks on the foreheads
of storefronts show
the different times
this downtown finally died.

Wake

No more streets
full of angry neighbors
shaking all the trees,
the water runs clear.

Kairos

Automatic gates you need
the numbers for before
you even knock on any doors
run their chains along the gear.

Run

She drops a match onto
the pile and then another
when it doesn’t catch.
Brown leaves and dry sticks
from the sycamores
all rearranging themselves
to better grab the light.

Overshot

Two friends walk through the heat
out to the drug store
as just a way to say they went somewhere,
and carry home plastic bags
pale as flaking bone.

Reach

Feedback in the speakers
and I cannot chill out
for anything.
The whole crowd of kids
push an old man around
and scream about
how nobody belongs here
anymore.