All These Rooms

7.1.06

Waiting for the sunrise
I’ve decided today
I’ll be the brother
who has died
and you can be the one
who fills his pockets
with rocks. You can throw
them at the parked cars
as you pass the open mouthed
mansions in Ladd’s addition,
as their windows dart
and twitch with that last
burst of dreaming that comes
just before waking.
Today you will glare
at the joggers insulting
their dogs with their slow witted
voices repeating words.
You can stop on twelfth street
to watch the ten year old
who has gotten up
before his parents to come outside
and smash ants against the sidewalk
with his thumb. Today
you can run through traffic
across MLK Drive and up over the Willamette
onto the walkway that clings
to the Hawthorne Bridge as you try to break
the simple ease
of coming and going.