Monday, July 12, 2010

We played to the sound

We played to the sound of
sirens; keeping time

like thieves, and staying in
the shadows as if

we were the ones being chased.

A mindful
wind blew from the Bay and touched
our coats like the

Usher did at the theater we
came from. To avoid real conversation

we crossed the street, dodging the moon

and some news rolling past our
shoe strings; But it was really us

rolling, the printed past fading, driven
by the wind and road construction.
Launching towards

a curb we could not climb

ourselves. We walked the night
touching arms, and talking

cross streets-looking
for a bar she swore I'd love.

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