Happy New Year

My hands are bound
chasing rolling hand grenades 
down an alley called fortune.
Hoping for shrapnel to teethe 
while I heave up stomach acid
and try to catch my breath.
But I’m drowning- 
gurgling The American Dream.
Tired. Slowing down. 
Listening to the far-off bangs
that will never reach me. 
They’re all celebrating-
I’m skinning my knees on
the porous surface of clarity. 
Watching my volatility sink into a daydream in the making. 
Grinding my teeth together
trying to make sparks.
-James Kelley 2018
Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

Poem

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