Childhood

do you remember the hot
sun beating down
across the chalk-covered
pavement? ‘cause i do
the concrete cracks were
like fate’s spider webs
catching us whole
for the digestion of design

me and matt
and danny and adam
we liked to run and
pitch golden crab
apples the size of baseballs
at the stop sign
in front of my yard
and we’d watch the swarm of bees
flood out like shooting stars
across the sky
they’d chase us
and it was just a game
back then, do you remember?
‘cause i do

some days i like to watch cars
drive by, and i’d
think back to when we
would sit in lawn chairs
on the side of the road
under the heat of
the summer sun sipping
on our kool-aid and
we’d wave with screams
to honk like it
was the law or something
do you remember those days
‘cause i do

and sometimes i look
into the vast sky and watch
the lemon squeeze it’s
juice upon the earth
in it’s bright color galore
of sunrise and sunsets
and i take a taste of the
citrus memories of lemonade
daydreams, thinking back to when
we would walk around the
neighborhood with the little
red wagon and sell to the
thirsty weekend-yard-working
dads who would buy a cup
for a quarter, and we’d collect it
all in that jar that summer
that we were saving
up for a club-house.
it ended up in the
childhood digestion design
of our stomachs
‘cause those sweets
were smiling at us in
the dairymart down the road
and our pockets were
so heavy from those quarters
do you remember?
‘cause i hope i don’t forget

i like to think back to
when we’d be swallowed
by the forts we’d build
and get lost in the
digestion of design
of blankets and pillows
and those little green
armchairs
do you remember falling
asleep inside of those?
‘cause i do

sometimes i like to
let the memories consume
me for those few
moments, when the design
of my childhood’s
digestion swirls me
around, i wonder if
you remember the good
old days, ‘cause i
know i’ll never forget

Morning Ritual

Can you hear that, too?

            the tick-tock of a heart beat speeding as the
alarm clock screams

the drip-drop of  warm water pelting flesh
in a morning ritual

the sizzling of bacon grease on a skillet
shushing the nighttime away

the swishing of saliva swirling
around the morning mouth of chomping teeth like
a Merry-Go-Round full of dancing children

the gulp of coffee burning down the throat and
the yelp, “OW!” as it settles in the stomach

Can you smell that, too?

the after rain scent and the crystallized bulbs of dew
attaching to the blades of grass like
children in the arms of mothers

the fresh shampooed hair and
soap-scrubbed skin

the bacon and coffee collecting
in the air welcoming the morning in around the house

Can you see that, too?

the sheer look of terror in
those voids of sight as they surrender sleep

the soul-smiling gaze as pondering
thoughts transpire in a calm, morning baptism

the bacon sizzling on the stove
and the coffee boiling in the pot

the de-stressing smile of satisfaction
as the coffee drizzles down the throat and

the impression of pain as it burns
its way down but a smile of contentment soon after

and the de-smiling look of realization
that it’s Monday morning and work is calling names

and the reddish-orange and yellow sunrise

with purple tints and blue shading around the clouds

making the dread of work somehow okay