POETRY
On Getting Lost Because Why the Hell Not?
Poetry
How often have I walked out into my own neighborhood and hoped to get lost…
It’s familiar to the point where it isn’t even comforting anymore
I know all the dumb plants and the stupid flags the cracks in the sidewalk and exactly where the majority of dog shit might be
I saunter by houses
imagining the imaginationless people inside
Some fat guy and his wife
Staring at second-day take-out
There are lights on in the upper windows where there’s a kid
And they don’t even bother to look out past the curtains
Because the only thing to see is me:
Some dumb guy walking past at night trying to do something decent for his heart
If I could get lost…
I could follow the sound of an airplane or a train and wind up in 1962
In a bar
In Paris
Listening to film students argue mise en scene
My shitty college French suddenly complete as I get
Involved
Gesticulating wildly with the stump of a Gauloises
