how do you dream this? heat and sweat, sticky: you can never be clean enough. close all the windows, bring out the air conditioners: just barely enough. go to a friend’s house, wade in the pool, set aside your embarrassment, reassure your daughter, introduce your son to the water, admire your wife. ease into this, ease into your age. there is wisdom there, there is comfort, let it come. let it come.

these tired bones, this thick skin. you can train it again, bring it back to breathing. out in the sun, the heat, a joy ride to the park. purely selfish reasons. i wanted to get back to the handball courts again. last time i was winded, trounced by a child half my age. i wanted a rematch, i wanted to flex my muscles, loosen my limbs. an hour until someone else came. one hour of volleys and serves and running after a little green rubber ball i could barely catch. then someone else came, three kids. i offered a one on one, they countered with doubles. i warned them of my age, the years since i played. not a problem. we won the first, 11-9. continued that one to 21 and won that as well, 21-14. they wanted another rematch which we lost, 11-9. not bad old man, not bad at all

sometimes i become so enraged over nothing but i can’t stand to remain dumbfounded: these kids were in a car, with two on the outside, one with a camera while the other was running up to each door and banging on it. i came out and yelled at them and it didn’t matter to the two on the outside, the girl was actually laughing, but one of the kids in the car started apologizing, saying that it was “for school.” after about five minutes, i jumped in the car and went prowling for them, doing some stupid maneuvers (like making a left turn from the right most lane) when i thought i saw another car with a kid holding a camera out the window. i don’t know what i had in mind, most likely to grab the camera and smash it. stupid, stupid, i know, i know.

why do my obsessions always run so deep, so prolonged
i become someone else, utterly and totally, tunnel vision
without care or caring, without self, without ground

perhaps getting off your anger is like getting off on it
you simmer and stew and the world is a brick
you want to hurl
and instead it smashes you, grinds you
until almost all hope is gone, almost all reason is gone
almost, almost
but the spit is yours, the blood is yours, all this feeling is yours
and you stand up, you breathe
and you are home again

thinking this, wound up, unthinking, unfeeling, the bridge across, the gap divide. she says, you do not miss me and i tell her i am on the other side of this very long bridge and i long for you, i long to be near you but i do not know how to cross it.