//pedestrian//

[groan, rubbing head]

Peel apart the lids, navy and vapor gumbo;
Eye-contact, gives himself a fake number;
Scribbled years over the last digits til he couldn't add them
But his ears are ringing, and I can't give a good answer;
Dragged by skeletons, milk carton models of the down-to-earth club
Swinging crow-bar marijuana at an busy jaded temple
Crushed;
Monk evacuation, clutching brittle bits of dated info
Vacant
Best of luck to your concussion;
Paralyzed from his teens down
Twisted contradicting map of a body, roads, avenues and streets, routes
Leading where they shouldn't
Can't feel himself, a wear of nothing, naked to the world;
Owned a little lot of nada in suit-cased letters and tie-clipped responses
Screeching brake with rusty breath, everything he yelled meant bus-i-ness;
Diesel fumes in his spelling, brail grown beautiful
ZZ Top, no wake in his feet for his soul's funeral;

Jogged the rubber out from under the tongue
Swallowed pride;
Elbow slip
Fortune-cookie world's smashed, watery rock jigsaw, grown stale in a pocket full of gravity
Always taking it to lunch, but doesn't rip the plastic, he
Maybe risks a peek between the folds; just sitting on a far table corner with his vowel on it;
Now, his back's licking up a plate of street and curdled leftovers of a cheese dream, chow has ceased;
...white slip of surrender trapped in its powdered teeth
Found these words, rap them around the pieces...
Can't find the fight--maybe cuz he likes it; maybe cuz I don't have a choice--hard truth, fate has chosen
Naked ears, wave of fresh air snaps their hymens to the beat of his heart newly racing rodents...
And... and then the music... died...

[Now...]

[No training wheels...]