Dreamsicle, Belly Up

I. 
Sticky syrup runs down my brother’s left arm 
Raspberry bush catches him by the ankle
We ignore the venom and crush her underfoot
Youth’s sour orange in the moment but vanilla cream forever 

We’re gods of crabapple; monarchs of sticks  
Yesterday’s manure still hanging in the air as
Starlings squabble above red-rubber kickball
One good boot and it’s over the stars toward Carolina 

Sit down, hold hands, smile, don’t pout–

Pigtails ponytails paper crown next round playground 
And asphalt somersaults 

II.
The movies that I was too cheap to buy popcorn for 
Were wrong but still flashy; kaleidoscopes bending sight
Showed us to stay upright with splintering shins and pallid pride
Trade wishes for waitlists and identity for eye candy

My equations fester in graphite; new sneakers worn thin
Another night devoured by harsh blue machines
My record’s nearly clean; my arc’s invisible 
Nostalgia dies in the bud when you only live for the future

Head down, pen-in-hand, know it, don’t guess–

Ink drips flushed lips faux elite stolen sweets track meets 
And asphalt somersaults 

III.
Obliterate your Old World for a chance at the blinding white New
You’ll only miss the subtle things; shoulder touches and the smell of earth
You need to narrow down your multitudes to have a clue what’s next
Some kind of boxed-in starry-eyed Schrodinger’s human 

Windy city, sweep me into your storm drains 
Let the low, dark sound of uncertainty 
Dissolve in the cloaking fanfare of lunch rushes
Cycle fluidly from skyscraper to pavement and back again 

Down town, fire born, start anew, don’t wait–

City sea home free ice dreams skies freeze gravel sneeze 
And asphalt somersaults