august 24th, 2011 - “truffle pig.”

a sun shone through the dining room window,
to kill the winter we fell in love with; to flood the kitchen floor,

and we ran to the garage filling sandbags;
to put the furniture on wooden blocks and risers

and whisper prayers to the refrigerator light;

to take count of what was ours, and where we would keep it
while the days were off diving in and out of puddles,
the edge of summer, and the dreams we can’t sleep through…

the year: we first used my hatchback the way it was meant to be:
feet dangled over the bumper, gazing at the movie screen and
staring at the stars, wishing we hadn’t forgotten a blanket,

and i still can’t help but wonder if the beer would have helped.

strange, how these trees hold words for so long:

through autumn and high winds, just to shout them back at us,
sitting on the same big rocks, year after year, to tie our shoes
and talk about the secrets we kept with us all winter long;

to yell our childish oaths and good luck prayers.

we ran wild through city streets and slept on couches.
thinking we found happiness here, i searched 
for hidden treasures and places to hide; leftover alcohol, 
and while the whole house hummed with laughter,

we stood back and watched our secrets sink to the bottom of the pool.

everything was louder, and everything made sense.

i watched the neighborhood kids run around in the driveway;
lower the basketball hoop as far as it would go, 
to practice slam dunks and pretend they were ten feet tall;

climb trees, lay in the street, and take turns daring each other
to jump into the pool from the banister on the back porch.

we smoked cigars in the woods by my house
to pretend we were young again, or just wanting the taste on our lips,

praying tobacco would cover the smell, 
swearing the smoke keeps mosquitos away,

too afraid to tell each other we know the truth, and the only reason
we keep running back here is because we’re afraid of growing up,
and we just want to spend one last night: in the treehouse;

in a make-shift tent in the backyard;

wishing we could see the stars through the living room ceiling.

  1. kahakaiiwi reblogged this from sillyandrew
  2. kindaweirdkaitlin reblogged this from sillyandrew
  3. sillyandrew posted this