untitled

in a state of betrayal and scraping-
memory from the rooms like old wallpaper
hesitations interpretations
asking for and giving constantly

you didn’t really think i was going to show up

did you—

are you going to bunk out
get busy
fall in love or skip town

active destiny or daydream

--choose


sometimes—
running until i almost collapse—a few seconds form when i cannot breath and only when my muscles barely hold my weight is it that i feel i’ve done something of significance—nothing to be remembered—but something being built—a revolving axis pitching forth great notions sweating collisions--reopening vital(ized) rooms--construction-- tearing down rotting decks with too many footprints