Down on Sessions
Street
we drink our
wine
We talk of things you talk of
when you drink your wine
Then we stumble home
and sleep in slumber
That night was
different though
The conversation
called on God
Like that the wine tasted different
and Sessions Street
grew a bit darker than usual
A rift was born
The train seemed frozen in time
The footprints of all
resonated on the pavement
A futile horn
seemed to echo in the distance
As the night
breezes
rattled the trees
a girl at the bar seemed intent
on drinking the words we were sipping
In midst of
rhetorical injustice
or perhaps when I lost the words
I had just thought of
I looked over to her
as stars faded behind the fog
Right then I
pondered
Why it is that once you find something
it seems too late
And when you don't
time seems never-ending
Here we sat
questioning something with no answer
Like white on white
we fight a vain battle
I went outside
onto the city street called Sessions
I closed my eyes and sucked on the air
in and out
out and in
until my soul fell out
and dripped all over the place
I stay away
from Sessions Street now
Her name was Kiera
and I was much younger then
