See The Police Coming

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My body took a beating as I flew off the swings…

and I connected inky stars as the ground came

into and out of focus underneath me. My friends got

busted on the reservation for being too high.

They stood with edges of sneakers hanging over the

steepest hill topping suburban homes none of

us could loan enough to buy- Patterning the roofs of

the couples hurt and the couples walking away from

things they built. We are the contractors asked to

watch over the construction of houses set on stilts.

And throats were paralyzed in the grip of cigarettes

and water bottles full of Jameson. The world clicked

by like a Rubik’s Cube- just some colors meant to be

arranged, but wrongly moved. My train tracks stand iron

quiet …waiting to shoulder heavy weight of the city’s

passenger trains on them. No one saw the police coming.

A town made of money erected out of warming worry…

Let them take us. We seen all we should already.

Text tagged as: poem writing writer poetry spilled_ink words love indie high friends pop_punk poet written