11:15pm Portland/ 2:15am New York

on the first night i've ever been to Portland
sleep starved from from a day & a half traveling
haunted by plane windows
i walk alone away from the hotel
i want to be eaten maybe
or inspected
i keep my watch on New York time
the deeper i get in city the more 
i want to walk until morning
& never sleep again 
rain full thick with hour 
bluer & bluer 
night asks what art
i will use to collect its memory in
& i answer with whistling 
each note turning
into a swallow-tail butterfly
or a song bird
i wonder to myself
are song birds the same on this coast?
do they have cardinals 
& blue jays
or am i alone here 
i grow more feathers
& pluck them off
littering them on the damp sidewalk
are they leaves or feathers?
did i take the broad leaf
forests with me 
am i born out of dead leaves?
the forests here a jagged
a colony of needles
pine trees jutting from 
the earth
i cut my finger
on the angles
suck the blood which
tastes tired
i am
the bluer i am 
the more i walk the more i want
to forget i'm
visiting the more i want
to be a brick
inside the wall of a strange building
or a water fountain outside a different hotel
clusters of misty people 
laugh loud for a Wednesday night 
i buy an ice cream bar 
& eat as i walk 
chocolate shell sweet
vanilla ice cream 
soft down my throat 
i don't take my time
i must look strange to someone out there
a man stepping in blue 
followed by song birds
whistling to make more 
hand bleeding 
leaving a trail of vanilla 
blood ball of yarn
behind him