Chicago-San Francisco

Sleep is chewing on
half-inviting
your body
kicking, keeping
the sun in the sky
the stars
lost in your stomach upon your skin
ants are crawling
your feet - too long
they eat slowly at your sleep
you now have red bumps on your knees
homes homes are invaded we are the invaders
There are no friendly shadows left in the sun
the moon slants, its shade screams falls
the door is the only liminal shelter
my elbow remains stuck
mid-thought
I’m growing roots
as the train is passing you’re photographing
this vertical slumber
loud as a home
the residents sigh

[June 2019]