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All the Time in the World

In Wichita, it’s navy blue,

Slow, the city a balloon that

Never pops. Smoke swirls,

Smoke clears, humans capture

The light on the castle at dusk,

At dawn, at an otherworldly moment.


Neither of us can stay healthy.

I have a strange smell in my nose

And you pop your leg out of your

Hip over and over, like a toy

A child tries to break. G.I. Joe.

Rubber bands for stomachs.


I thought I’d try something else,

Trade in the terrifying deep blue

Skies for turquoise, a parched

Air that turns skin to leather,

Lizard-like. The homeless here

Wear layers and layers of parkas.


What is temperature but an

Internal designation? It’s cold

At night, in the absence of the

Hot white poker sun.

I walk outside at 3 am, see

Every star running from itself.


I feel pretty at Smith’s, because I

Finally get hit on. Why are all the

Women here so beautiful? A man

Asks me. I don’t know. I noticed

The same thing. I wish I had a girl’s

Hand to hold, soft as a wish, or a

Man’s, large with callouses.


When you have all the time in the world,

You ride along the edge of the river,

Which is muddy and not very pretty.

It takes everything in its path. I’ve

Never once touched it. The Rio Grande.

I had a dream I woke up. And you were

Sitting in the sun beneath the window.






Posted 04/19/17
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