Fifteen

if I could again
I would walk at seventeen
alone downtown
to read the same home street signs
and understand this time
beyond roads and maps
the relevance in words’ intersections
names in dutch or anishinaabemowin
crossing above
waste no more time
waiting for a light to shine
waste no more time
waiting for the light
sit in the corner
like we always did
asking older kids
for cigarettes
with the SHARP skins
and our crust punk friends
morning glory packet acid trips
and now I know
in clear light my own worse failings
where here too
in a still new place
I have and do break
where I stare out paralyzed all day at rain
just waiting
and writing is a referendum on me
but shouldn’t I be different now?
Having after that
self-destructed slowly my twenties away
until you came and so life did
but I won’t
not now—
for everyone and you
—with eyes closed
waste time
while victory approaches us
slowly too but less slow
I will see it coming
I will help
I hope I will
now I see three fires in the river back home
where I have only and never belonged my whole life
now I see under all three bridges here
only water
and there is so much I do not know
there is so much I do not know
now I see basements were sanctuaries still
and it was only and more than a song if we all sang
if we all now see under all three bridges here
only water
that there is only one way that it flows
that there is only one way that it flows
that there is only one way that it flows
waste no more time
waiting for the light to shine
waste no more time
waiting for the light
waste no more time
waste no more time