the heights

6.07.2025

think of jersey summer think of flying god incarnate as a kite, free

as a bird but stable as calcite and steadied by a fertile earth of sweat,

tears, certain mainly innocuous over-waterings that form

a ground

for a love that had grown at last heavy enough to resist volatility, tall enough to yield

her first fruit; stability.

when I think of jersey summer and gliding up erie street and down newark ave to the corner of 10th, zipping and unzipping that grid at a constant pace, a model mouse in a maze that looks like paradise and I recall, there’s a backdrop

to my memories and that’s what it is, I was a kite.

I don’t feel like a kite anymore though, perhaps that’s why

I think of it so often.