in the morning running
rodeo kayakers traverse
pounds of light
the water just light

now here in hotel
depriving myself of
sleep on guard
the beauty of my lean
muscular forearm
reminding me of
myself, my aliveness
my body that carries
my soul

David Bowie in my
“an occasional dream”
just drift from
dream to dream
the past mist
ghosting me

“It happens all the time”
the girl at the grocery store
said to my no funds
I biked fast and
angry almost lifting
my bike off the
ground as I rode
yelling profanities
into the streets