for jordan on a city sidewalk

Oct 4

if I think of the few times

on a lake

bouncing & savoring

whiffs of gasoline

while fans of crystalline kisses

shower the passage,

I can confirm the soft life—

the giving expanses—

are not where

I belong

but if I pound my feet onto

my rush forward, my bones

will be so sore from the city

cement

where ever I end up

feels like home

gasp poem