Anchors on the Corner Lot

11th and Hogan used to talk about
Rock walls that led to quite solitude,
The death of exhaust as cars passed by.

11th and Hogan used to flutter
Kaleidoscope eyelids and flaunt
Floral skirts beneath summer blues.

11th and Hogan used to stutter pleasantries
On blossoming hands
Through rich soils that defied its new name.

11th and Hogan used to spill light
On tattooed Africa,
On quotes of ink she liked to sing about.

11th and Hogan used to sigh
Winter storms on fireplace hearths,
Brick comforts on spinal conversations.

11th and Hogan used to know four bodies
And conflicting minds,
Limbs hanging and snagging on darkening hearts

11th and Hogan used to cradle
Heavy heads and hollow chests,
Mounted shoulders on mold-tainted plaster

11th and Hogan used to sweat
Salt doors, slamming and cursing,
With windows fogged where cold met hate

11th and Hogan used to plead
Shadowed corners,
Here, she cried, don’t leave me yet.

11th and Hogan sagged,
Roof tripping over cardboard gradients
Colors leeching please please please

11th and Hogan, I tried…
Chained hips and tack tickled arches,
These fists bled from striking too many truths.

11th and Hogan withered, fractured
Hollowed, abandoned
Nails bit into flesh

11th and Hogan sunk low beneath
Tidal memories, You must know,
I cast my anchors out.

11th and Hogan, you must know
Upwells scared her and she let her husband
Several all those tethers.

11th and Hogan, you must know,
I learned to love your La Nina caresses,
Your embrace…

I clung too.

I wear 11th and Hogan
On headlands of a cracked heart
Alienating childhood currents.

I clung too.
I swear, I clung too.