I watched the Chicago skyline
Become bright at the height of twilight
On a rooftop twenty-nine flights
I felt the daily fight
...
time passing
mass transit
break-dancing troupe
horn-honking hobo
...
he thought he was -
after the bombs dropped
after the bullets dodged
...
there is a hot coal in my father's palm
he takes them from our hearth
his hands unscathed to memory
scorched layers crust over once tender flesh
...
the day wore on
time turned after noon
my shower is late
my clothes in the hamper
...
so let's all get drunk
and write pretty words
or plain words
or weird words
...
the pool of vomit
over the curb
beside my right shoulder
my freshly skinned
...