My life in vintage colors Memories of simpler times Silver robots; red wagons Silly neighbors; street parades A life of unhinged laughter Amens before the altar Real Santa’s; make-believe friends Rabbit-like cars; in-car phones Within the Heights of Richmond On a Terrace named Highland Dreams wake; reality sleeps The imagined; magic reigns.
Havin’ my second party
You came
Cryin’ when she had to leave
Mom shame
Sittin’ with my grandparents
No blame
Openin’ my next present
New game
Quittin’ on the party NO
Dad claimed
Headin’ back here as soon as
Paul named
Eight Fourteen: The Theiss B-Day
Bro frame
Happy birthday, bro.
Stop crashing my party.
-j
I wish I were a skylight; a lamp atop the tallest building in my city; I want to look out from my lookout; I want to be urban; not sub but above urban; apart from you yet a part of your experience; not a subject, but a mere object; individually insignificant, collectively brilliant; just like you, but not like you; I want you to notice me, but not see me; to light your way, while staying out of it; eradicate shadows, yet staying in mine; my facade, faceless; your afterthought, thinking about you; extroverted travel to you 299,792,458 meters per second, from the introverted refuge of my bulb.
I liked blocks as a kid
So, why’s writer’s block bad?
sigh…well,
I have got it right now
But I’m writing, somehow.
shrug…so,
Like back when I was young,
Playin’ with blocks is fun.
Thanks for reading.
-j
theisswriter: typing things. for me. for you. 