summer camp

I do not say

step in to the circle if

more than once or twice

I am not digging deep

I am not sixteen anymore,

and amidst all these sixteen year olds

I can't decide if I lament that.

What I'm feeling is not nostalgia,

but the certainty of time not moving back.

I stood on this basketball court and ate cereal before.

how deep does my owing of that past learning go?

how much do I owe this place and how much can I push it?

When do I push on forward and when do I push back in?

on moving to LA without water ice

drunk, in and out, wine-mouthed teeth trembling. goosebumps.
passenger seat driving, vibrations and fingernails and the yellowing of light seeming
to take up whole expanses of sight. everything in vision in horizon lines in one.
here, fella, you wanna come back for some loving? wide bed, wide thighs or stride. fill you up some.