It's partly sunny out.
I wondered if I were outside
would I cast a shadow.
I was driving down a boulevard
split in half by gravel islands.
I’d never been in this part of town before.
It was quiet.
I passed a shopping mall for sale and boarded up.
The parking lot was empty with faded yellow stripes
and dandelions sprouting up through the cracks.
I parked on a side street in front of a one story house
with vinyl siding and crushed rock instead of grass,
a boat on cinder bricks and a bird bath without water.
It was ugly and pleasant at the same time.
It’s nobodies fault.
People live their lives from out of here.
They have coffee mug trees in breakfast nooks
and sliding patio doors.
Their kids sit in booster seats, smear food on their faces
and throw tantrums.
It was another day for them.
The sky was clouding up.
No one knows I am here.
I wondered if I went missing if anyone would notice.
A man came out of the house and sat in a pick up before leaving.
I smelled his after shave as he passed and I felt anxious for the day.
My seat belt tugged at my chest and my jacket made a crinkly sound
when I shifted in my seat.
I wondered what I would do with the rest of my life.
I thought the people who lived here must love this place,
circular cul de sacs, crocuses blooming in the clay dirt,
florescent plastic toys in cement driveways.
What if someone’s wife or husband left them,
their dog woke up panting with a mysterious illness,
or if they lost sleep over saying something stupid at work?
The houses were pastel, faded sea green, pale yellow, dirty beige.
They were washed out by the sun like colors of an old paint chip.
I felt unattractive and homely.
I started my car and drove back to my house.
I wondered if I were outside
would I cast a shadow.
I was driving down a boulevard
split in half by gravel islands.
I’d never been in this part of town before.
It was quiet.
I passed a shopping mall for sale and boarded up.
The parking lot was empty with faded yellow stripes
and dandelions sprouting up through the cracks.
I parked on a side street in front of a one story house
with vinyl siding and crushed rock instead of grass,
a boat on cinder bricks and a bird bath without water.
It was ugly and pleasant at the same time.
It’s nobodies fault.
People live their lives from out of here.
They have coffee mug trees in breakfast nooks
and sliding patio doors.
Their kids sit in booster seats, smear food on their faces
and throw tantrums.
It was another day for them.
The sky was clouding up.
No one knows I am here.
I wondered if I went missing if anyone would notice.
A man came out of the house and sat in a pick up before leaving.
I smelled his after shave as he passed and I felt anxious for the day.
My seat belt tugged at my chest and my jacket made a crinkly sound
when I shifted in my seat.
I wondered what I would do with the rest of my life.
I thought the people who lived here must love this place,
circular cul de sacs, crocuses blooming in the clay dirt,
florescent plastic toys in cement driveways.
What if someone’s wife or husband left them,
their dog woke up panting with a mysterious illness,
or if they lost sleep over saying something stupid at work?
The houses were pastel, faded sea green, pale yellow, dirty beige.
They were washed out by the sun like colors of an old paint chip.
I felt unattractive and homely.
I started my car and drove back to my house.