i once strut a morn
in a bland city with pale sunlight
a hue grey as the sidewalk
the breeze clashing with my hairy legs
i inhaled a joint
and felt dizzy already
it was 9am
i didnt feel like going to class
i felt i would burst laughing
and embarrass myself,
for the professor looked like larry david
although i doubt he would think it was funny
since he reminded the class
of their inevitable
'death and demise'
so i went back to my car
drove home
wondered if it was the dark roast
i was to prepare
or was it medium?
african roasts
must be the dark ones,
i thought
and it was a sullen morning
the ants moved along
in their capsules
not staring at each other
and i yearned to go back
to cities with canals
and maybe i'd be hidden
beneath a subway
where my heart finally burst
and we spoke across tattered connections
floating up and down staircases
until it was done
and you never saw me in the mirror
i was never there
and i never was
just a terrible wretch
stretching legs uncomfortable
aroused by sounds
no one had heard
a resonance
swept between my feet and the earth
and to all greyness i will see
much closer
the bottoms of cups, red
and always again
the strangeness struck me
alien and forbidden
balancing between houses
knee-deep, moist,
and unforgiving.