on the sidewalk forever ago
before we loved to talk
we traced a world with chalk
and our parents told us
imagination was our redeeming feature
till we snuck into the real park-side
where they told me
that intent now was my redeeming feature
and i decided to be the relentless breathing
rolling down grass hills
rushing to think all the thoughts and to
stand by counting
the stories and the heights
the stick shift, switch gears and the
reprise of sounds that i didn’t even know i’d heard before
but in the city now, i know
that i know.
in the town again (where i’m standing then),
nice people pour me tea
but furrow their brows, because intent
doesn’t count for anything
in a house.
in these walls
purpose is my redeeming feature.
so i build till i can see far enough away
and we roll in a car to find the city one day
i become a rush pushing bedtimes later
because i liked to grow a to-do list that was so much greater
unbothered that these buildings are so tall
because i am comfortably small
but in the city, you’ll meet some of the most processed people.
people who want you to get your head out of the clouds
because it’s in the way of a skyscraper construction.
dreams aren’t welcome in the capital, unless it’s to make capital
and i’m not sure if projecting my imagination on everything is making me
feel rich or poor.
i’m really getting sick of being told to be more down to earth by all these city types, they’re all walking on concrete. concrete isn’t earth, but i guess it must be nice to never get mud on your shoes.
for a little while
i am happy to just wonder about that.”