Kristen de Kline #20 - Old stomping ground

Old stomping ground

Sometimes going back to your old stomping ground
speedo over 110 on the Western freeway
Roy O on max volume s-c-r-e-a-m-i-n-g out in dreams
isn't
such
a bright idea

You never know who you might
     bump
              into

You never know who you might
     fall
          over
       
You pick up a latte from your old espresso bar
the haunted waitress that used to have blonde hair
has violent
violet locks
thrashing all over her face, one lash tangled up in her nose ring
she looks up at you and doesn't say: it's been a while where did you go it's been a while

You pick up a latte from your old espresso bar
vibrant blues and greens have been inked into the barista's arms:
a dragon breathes out fury
then pauses
somebody's heart misses
                                        skips
                                                 jumps
a beat (or three...)

Somebody's heart
snags
on an object you can't quite make out:
a merino scarf? a harvested organ? a string from your son's 70's guitar?

You drive past brick and tile quarter acre suburban houses that all-look-the-same
do you see the one you were going to be carried out of in a cardboard coffin
do you see the front verandah you cracked open the Verve Clique over
In the rear vision mirror: brick and tile houses cardboard coffins front verandahs Verve Clique
grass clippings, freshly cut, meander across the car bonnet
stray blades float in a ghostly tango
it's been a while where did you go it's been a while