Treading

You ride the morning
After the alarm,
The cravings.
Coffee sees you off.
Platonic work wife
Smiles sugar.
Boulders aren’t dislodging,
Raging down the hillsides.
Lunch is dialogue
You dumbed down for the natives.
You’re a mile from the eighties.
Life is creeping down the chute.
You’re coasting on your charms.
What did you dream last night,
Or can you dream at all
These brutal times?

Good god,
I crave a single work day
Unpredictable.
No love
Is simmering in ruins
Of capitalistic cages.

I remember nights
Beneath the apple blossoms
Dancing close to breathe each other’s steam.
You wore a yellow sweater
Smelling of vanilla.

- 10/7/27

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