another loss -iii

I was in
      between pages
a book without
binding

You let me stay
with you
one night
a moment's notice

we were friends
our lives derelict
 unusual

the music
the midnight
oil

      bands like us
cannot make it
no more

 traded street level
 stories

         left out
again. in the sunlight
 soon to be
exposed

 before dawn

 you were kicking
back. i was several back
packs deep to and from
Magnolia street

several unsavory characters
wanted a piece
of me they
could not catch
me

       thank god
 for this
       bicycle...

Journal # 03.31.15

I am happy to see some of the houses in my neighborhood are derelict. They have not been razed. They are accepted. If a community has no neglected homes, you can only imagine what it does to its people. My load of laundry is large and soft. It breaks against my hip. The strap is tight against my shoulder. The birds are rather excited about the Spring. The mercury climbs and the heat is so unlike the winter weather I have been accustomed to. The wooden planks that make the stairwell to my home are cranky. Shifty. They throw off their paint and nails. I look around me for signs of someone I do not need to see. They are nowhere to be seen. Not for some hours. I do not like having satellites. I prefer to be a singular planet, sometimes. Maybe with a dissolving ring. Or a solid one of ice that slices through space. But it seems I have no choice. Some will gravitate toward me. Will they wanna hurt me? Break through my atmosphere? I must not let paranoia rule the day. I wanna believe I attract things that wanna be near to me, maybe dear to me. But not offensive or harmful. Fact: I do not control the universe.