nocturne (fragments)

truthfully, it concerns me that the homeless man under the overpass is missing.
I have not seen him in days.
All I can hope for is that he's found a safer, warmer place.

The air grows pregnant. Heavier and heavier,
it is expectation that gives it this weight. We'll find either some climax to it,
a most natural turn of events ending in oh, simple as that,; alternatively,
we'll cling to hopefulness till we wake an older, more tired man.
____(at night i cannot breathe so well)

in any case.
somewhere a homeless man is hopefully more homeful.
also, somewhere a 25 year old male whose name is not mine is living the life i'd have lived had life been something else. also also, somewhere darker than here, the ocean makes a beautiful sound as it slides her slender hand along the sand's porcelain cheek; the moon stares with her lips dry for a kiss, too far away to reach anything but its own dust.

(night, heavier still)
(i concentrate on each breath, hoping for a full chest-expansion)

there are no answers to be found during these hours.
once they kept me company, now they simply stare back at me.
my back hurts from the weight of the atmosphere pushing down on my neck.
(sigh)
(deeeep breath)

i imagine everywhere-but-here, God works at a frantic pace killing innocent people, borning babies, kissing buds into flowers, pushing a wind this way or that, crashing computers, putting words.ideas into people's mind, having me meet people, putting strange noises into the throat of my car, edging me towards the border of some next future i'll recognize when i meet. (i can hear the universe hum and click as it approaches.

palms in lap
i wait.
____(deep breath