I was thinking about the Midwest.
White, orange, and black cars.
The color of the craft,
our New Year
Spotted on the first day of Summer.
Sometimes fresh starts aren’t always so fresh.
Sometimes they are hot and burning off scorching concrete.
Sometimes they are born on Midnight in the suburbs of Connecticut.
I’ve been dreaming of Russian winters,
taking 6-hour flights
for 45-minute brunches,
to show people how much I care.
Dashing red velvet ropes
for closed off areas
Grand marble staircases
to hijack the castle
Waiting on snow
for the team to show up
and give me a ride
I have brunch plans in six hours.
I dreamt of city beer hall pasts
A brick wall splashed with soft lighting
A raging bull
An opening to different times
Torn up pieces of paper, Free pizza
Nancy yelling at me to get in the cab
We were always going back when we should of been moving forward
Time is a funny thing