Change chugs up the hallway, refracts
my past days, they are strung bulbs
greeting winged bugs that zing and burr –
they love the glow

and I love the flurry, the huff and hurry
come now we have to make it,
just one more flight of stairs, one more
box, one more collapse

into inevitable aliveness, such is
existence, we get flung, dipped,
rocked in the feral lullaby getting sung
to every human; listen up,

I rode illegally in the back of a truck,
bruises now litter my thighs and arms,
and I had strangers tell me
their whole lives in just one drive,

just one more strive, maybe
I’ll meet oblivion one day, however
not today, not this week, not this year,
this evening still flies cool.