in chicago: notions 7-8.

notion 7.

take me off the list. i am not
registering my i.d. or name
on a certificate that will detail
the broken memory of the humans
we are supposed to be, supposed to
be like the ancient memories of
the heart we used to be from
w/in the dreams we see when
we sleep. keep mine in a box
that’s locked w/ a key lying
hidden in another box. so many layers
that get set up to set you up before
the sun dries out the sea w/ an acid
no one saw coming but everyone
had a feeling.





notion 8.

let’s get spiritual, so i can be
something much more than what
we can see past a state
so high, we’re flying. wave
goodbye to the ghosts we
used to fear as children.
you’ll hold my hand
and i’ll hold yours,
so we can dream of the sea
till we escape from drowning,
till we understand what reality
means, and if sunshine is
new so we can pretend
to figure out.


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