There is a Place in Me

there is a place in me
that wants to separate
and catch a bus to the
sea and walk naked
feet into high tide
and liquefy swirling
like lost oil on the
surface there is this
place that wants to
pull apart like a loaf
of bread at Sunday
dinner with family
to which you air
idle conversation
like laundry on a
spring line it smells
nice but it is thin
like cheesecloth this
part of me sifts through
the bruised niceties and
eliminates it's like churning
butter what wounds me
rises to the surface
and curdles but this is
the best part that makes
the food rich and yet it
needs to be remote out
of the way the strange
tourist trap that ogles
at you in its absurdity
this opulent divide
it is the way I breathe

Roads

So many breaks
momentary cessations
in the concrete overflowing
with muddy rainwater shrouded
in thin ice it evaporates at the slightest
movement like a water bug scuttling across

The surface so many
glitches in the way a crumbling
at the edges asphalt deteriorating with
time passing as all things do but I travel it
over and over and over until I can evade the apertures

In my sleep dreaming
the same dream and at waking
I wonder why my feet have left dirty
footprints across the ground leading to living
here is the time here it is I hear the thunder of my insides
as I change my skin and choose something more comfortable

I melt the overlay
of ice on the puddles with my
open palms and anticipate a change
in the direction of the path the old rises
up one last time and I shake my head answering
Maybe in the light of something else the road will be different