musings in cambridge

not done, but here you go

...

today i tried to lose myself in the city.

it was hard, seeing as how cambridge
is really just one large suburb, so
i lost myself in a cloud of smoke instead.

i walked real fast, like my legs could outrun my brain, cuz
i got that feeling i sometimes do, you know
where my heart feels like its going to burst
out of my chest, and i get all excited and anxious.

i suck down smoke to make my heart stop beating.

some old woman approached me today.
she saw me smoking so she stopped me.

hey, you!

it was an abrupt call, and when i turned around,
there she was, hands shaking, like a junkie.

i'm sorry, but can i..?

her eyes darted towards my pack and she licked her lips.
i could relate to that feeling of helplessness
so out of pity, i gave her a cigarette
and then, as an afterthought, my lucky too,
and she blessed me and we each kept on moving
down our separate paths.

sometimes i feel lonely.

when i'm sad i run towards running water.
i guess its the cancer in me.
when i see moving water, i feel at home,
and besides, langston once told me that
my soul runs deep like the rivers.

over the charles there is a walking bridge
where i had my first date.
i sat down in the exact spot
where he and i talked about
the importance of kool-aid and
traded bad love songs while the sun set.
i wanted to kiss him then, but i didn't
and instead we pondered together why it is that
beautiful things always seem to be the most terrifying.

i am scared all of the time.

why is that?
i passed two construction workers today
standing on the roof of a three story house
and i was scared, and hurried past them
with my eyes glued to the sidewalk.
their bravery upset me.
they walked around freely
like gravity was an imaginary concept
and i was terrified that my eyes would betray them
and bring them crashing down back to earth.

i saw a little black boy running happily

past two cops, who were busy harassing a homeless man
in central square.
my breath caught in my throat
and i thought about the time that i had to teach my younger brother
that when he sees a blue uniform
it is best to walk, hands in pockets, eyes averted
because there is no difference to a bullet
between a guilty man running away from the scene
and an 8 yr old.

i passed a building that was stenciled with
happy black bodies in motion.

this was the same building that i passed with my mother
when she told me, smiling
about her nights out with my father.
they would come here to go dancing,
once upon a time,
when she still saw herself as
young and strong and beautiful
and he still loved her.

i was tempted to walk in
so that i look inside and see them dancing
but i kept on walking, because
i don't know what i would do
if those doors would not open for me.
so instead i sat and watched the waves
rolling in the charles river
and pretended they were my parents.
my mother was young and strong and beautiful
and my father was tall and dark and handsome
and they fell in love all over again
to the sound of the rolling river.