Capturing Campus: January

Beautiful
smoke stacking into stairs
billowing between the sun and the earth
star-bound and suffocating
with burning in the backs of throats
and tears in the eyes
not from memory or sunken phrases
but from particulates
and particular toxins
that stack so subtly
borrowing blue air
in an innocent display
that isn’t so innocent
the longer you linger
in the space between the sun and the earth
compelled to watch
the world dissolve
your body erode
in the beauty of it all

Smoke stacks on the University of Michigan campus.

Capturing Campus: January

Friday on State

images of old America
glitter in Hollywood
rock bands roiling
and German beer (not so German anymore)
with patriotism and Ann Arbor trees
bright green walls, newly renovated
plants at the window (could be fake)
boba and straw in hesitant hands
your friend tells you it isn’t very good
but insists you drink it anyway
and anyway isn’t so bad, right?

Capturing Campus: January

Thoughts before the end

My exam is in two days, and I’d rather pitch my head through a wall
but I trekked to Walgreens for toothpaste instead, so I must be an adult now
living somewhere that’s always alive with conversations
(you wouldn’t believe what I heard in the elevator)
What if I moved to Canada next autumn
I’m tired of discovering myself
to be more complicated 
than yesterday’s inbox 
I’ll sift through it
sometime (not soon)
I’m headed to the party
but the whole world’s on fire
wondering what she said to her
that made her leave
Can I walk with you
I’m so tired
Could you promise me 
that everything will be okay in the end

Capturing Campus: December

Heaven on Earth

are you born from the snow

an angel? 

or something real

phosphorescence, incandescence

I double over at the sight of you

you call my name

I’ll carry you

to the Heavens

we’ll rise

but I’ve forgotten

my back doesn’t come with wings

so you rise while I

f

     a

           l

               l

all I want is too high

so I lay in the snow

where I found you