body

loud is the morning
with rabid motors roaring.
next to me snoring.

the inner city.
a menagerie of sound.
no caves of quiet.

i can eat right now
what was once only a dream.
chubby self agrees.

i run
because i want to be the wind.
i run
because i want the sun to smile.
i run
to understand why birds fly.
i run
for it is in running i find myself.
i run
for it is in running that i lose myself.
i run
so as to keep the bottles and needles behind me.
i run
so that i might chisel away the fat in my life.
i run
so that my mind can be quiet.
i run
so that i can hear myself finally think.
i run
because in running i am alive.
i run
to escape the prison i keep myself in.
i run
to return to the memories of my youth.
i run
so that the heart can beat me blue.
i run
so that my lungs can feel the fire.
i run
because you would too if you could.
i run
for it is the run that makes life worth living.
i run
because without it the demons lash me down.
i run
because my running is rhythm.
i run
so that i might taste the marrow of my life.
i run
for it is in running that i see the future.
i run
for it is in running i forget the past.
i run
because i see your arms are open.
and i run
for that is where my home is.

the mustard trousered soldiers
in crisp white shirts lie dead.

their heads decapitated
burnt to gray ash.

in the blue glass tomb
they lie still as silence.

and the question i ask
from lungs bellowing smoke
are these macabre omens?

in the house
are many boxes.
i’m boxed in.