Feeling both my happiest,
and my oldest,
I cross the highway bridge.
Clothed only in what I could steal,
I balance-beam the median.
The northwest Indiana winds felt Caribbean,
almost.
In my most comfortable,
____worn-in,
_______scuffed up
_______sneakers,
I let my vibrant summer sundress
follow hurriedly behind us.
In regards to time, the walk across the river
is only half an hour.
In regards to time, I'm not quite sure whether
it's AM or PM.
In regards to time and average human lifespan.
I am only nineteen.
In regards to time, history, and mother nature,
the river
is starting to look like a swamp.
In regards to time, I've only lived in this town for a year.
Its congressmen and its dregs,
its industrial canal and shady neighborhoods,
have taxed me,
and aged me.
In regards to these troubled times,
poverty has me in a chokehold.
As far as time is concerned,
I am nineteen,
unemployed,
living on my own,
and claiming I'm in love.
But, amidst my unorganized preaching
and failed ambitions,
it's as if the pipes
underneath the fountain of youth
got tangled,
and submerged,
in an underground reservoir of
fermented
top-shelf
enlightenment.
Politics, poverty, and fairy-tales about
mystical plumbing…
In regards to time,
I am much too young to be on a soapbox,
but much too poor,
_________too old,
________________and
________________listless
to care.
To feel both my happiest and my boldest.