At Pioneer Square, I met a fifteen year-old kid who looked ancient. His Jnco jeans were dark with stains. He had a deep furrow that didn’t disappear when his eyebrows straightened. “My parents kicked me out because they caught me kissing a boy,” he told me. “You can stay at Orion Center, but you have to tell them you’re thirteen.”
I recall attempting to stretch my arms once
but I didn’t touch much but dust
which is of course just used dead skin and other dead things.
I have seen flowers mangled. I have seen human flesh tear away from human flesh. I see your face and I can only think of how whole you must have been, before the fear gave you this awful stasis…
you can hold a newborn deer in your palm
if you place fluorescent light into the ground
you can find a chair on a busy street
and sit in it until ice forms all around you
I turned up the volume as the verse came in. “Listen to his voice! That sounds just like Larry! He can sing while Balki plays the piano thing!” I didn’t realize that where I was seeing two zany cousins who lived lives in which scoring their own theme song was entirely possible, my dad was seeing two actors constrained by their own talents.