James Knapp is a writer, musician, and activist. He currently lives in Harrisburg, PA.
I spent all day whittling toothpicks
out of redwoods, and building them into cabins
with matchstick chimneys.
I drew skyscrapers in spray paint
on the caved-in roofs of row houses.
I used Beethoven’s sheet music
to make origami sledgehammers, and slammed
out symphony on pots and pans.
I searched for Atlantis at the bottom
of drained swimming pools.
I ran a four minute mile
through alleys, over hurdles
made of chain link.
I traded half a decades wages
for another shot at failure.
I stole priceless works of art,
and traded them to junkies
for half a bottle of Mad Dog.
I took the easy way out
and haven’t looked back since.
I sat at solitude’s doorstep at sunset,
with a forty in a paper bag, and sang
slurred hymns to no one.