I want to see the wonders of life, but I’ve only seen dead armadillos.
At the stop light, two girls in a white suburban sing to me.
Here I am, in a duplex, I cut off all my hair.
I can hear you in the garage playing a waltz on the piano
I’m on the roof watching airplanes, beneath me
the epileptic pug slips on the hardwood floor
At the oysteria, they call me the eternal optimist.
Here I am, waving through the window.
Speaking Spanish running around an empty ballroom
Here I am, playing pretend,
I miss real life, when I’m not living it.
Today it is summer at a cement beach
Here I am, on a striped towel
When you first hear the train it sounds like violins
I can hear the bugs singing by the little arkansas
Here I am, with you
Christopher Walters is the editor of Basset Hound Press. He lives in Wichita, Kansas.
image: Jesse Hilson