city cynic

sometimes I wish

I was still young enough to believe

that highway break lights 

knit blankets of scarlet twinkle lights

ahead of us, 

not cherries of cigarettes

that would be stomped out like dreams

to pave the city sidewalks. 

my ambitions lay somewhere

under a thousand car tires

and rapid city footprints

on the corner of Jackson and tenth street.

I wish I was still young enough 

to believe that scissors

cut everything and war

solved anything and I 

am more than a quilt

of memories and failures

to tuck away. 

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i wish i were young enough to believe, too. being from the sixties, i was idealistic...i have held on to those beliefs for all this time...but now? like a stomped out cigarette, the burning yearning for what could be is flickering and starting to go out.

we need some kind of phoenix to bring us all back...to rise again, against the discouragement we feel.

a very insightful piece that really pushed buttons with me.

jacob

[Clockwork]

When I read your work, there are often phrases that demand my undivided attention. The lines "I
am more than a quilt/of memories and failures/to tuck away" are those kind of lines. They're such a powerful conclusion to this piece. I'm in love with their melancholy beauty.

Starting with the lines "sometimes I wish/I was still young enough to believe," was a really nice touch. They really got me into your concept, and they made me think about my life as well. You've opened a door, leading to a room for all of us to look at what we left behind when our youth faded.

I agree with Jacob...we need a Phoenix.

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

my ambitions lay somewhere
under a thousand car tires
and rapid city footprints
on the corner of Jackson and tenth street. -- great stanza...raw, real, gritty and powerful.

I think, at least for me, we all come to a point in our lives where the things that were just aren't anymore; they've changed, evolved, morphed (if you will) into something different, and sometimes that something different is hard to see and impossible to recognize. Idealism...don't lose it, hang on to it with tigh fingers, my friend.