I am waiting on some paperwork
out here with my hand around the banister,
looking at the moon. The neighborhood
is still awake I can hear it very clearly
on this step between the first floor
and the second.
The distant sounds of skateboard wheels
pressed rough against the concrete
remind me there are people that can fly.
They keep their tricks and wasted time
like dreams caught in the net inside their mind,
and assume no due forgiveness from the earth.
I keep a chain on the back of my car
that I wrap around public mail boxes
as a way to get a hold of them
and unbolt them from the back lots
they’ve been haunting never eating
I want to be somewhere crowded and fade
from my own sight. For one whole night,
I will forget there is a sun.
I hope it’s pouring when I get there
so for a moment I can stand among
the storm clouds, and remember
how it felt to trace the current with my eyes,
something burning in the sky that has me