Monday, April 19, 2010

18.30 Novelty

I remember when a hotel stay
was something special
ice bucket miracles
and the way orange crush
somehow tasted better, different
from an end of the hallway
vending machine.

Every once in awhile
I remember learning how to drive
how it seemed like I would never
pass the DMV test
circling, jerking, parallel parking
driving backwards.
I probably couldn't now
but all those windows down miles
through small towns and cornfields
or sneak outs into the city
made wheels fly.
After the crunch
and pound of accident
the more than a month of stiffness and cricks
it's good to remember the joy
instead of fear.

One of the pleasures of filling a journal
is the starting fresh
the binding crack
into a new one
the fresh scent
sheets of possibility
to mark how you grow
and stay triumphantly the same.

These are the nudges
that keep me breathing
from tired eyes in travels
to the sigh of more paper trails
I doubt anyone will follow.

This afternoon
it happened through a person
young man with wide open face of share
to have met more kin over the last few days
than he'd ever met before
revealing his isolation
over mediterranean feast.

A table of us who could be called jaded
on a bad day
falling in love with being just found
the reason why poetry matters and connects
the novelty, the newness
like orange crush
like lessons learned toward freedom
like freshly opened journal pages

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