monksta

nothing was broken if you fall down
in dirt standing small with
rubberbands and swimming in photos
struggling all.

i swim in swallows with trash bags
floating on, through the
winter nights we saw the land
sitting miles miles on your palms

i run through rain sheering off
the hands that held my face
on notebooks
torn pages just streak past
windows on buses running
through late night symbols
of love and hate and leaving

this satellite just sits there
waiting for the land to come up
and tear it into two

i swear i never knew your name
you called it out over and over
and i just sat there with a
broken cigarette, a broken record
playing back my memories
of sitting there looking at you

the wastebasket sits half empty
with paper trails leading to my chair
and i write these words down
haphazardly
barely able to keep
them from painting a story
to make you care

a mouse and a fox are running through
my head over hills over trees
i stumble on
heart; a cordless phone
turned off.