Tell Me When We’re Home

when we are made witness
to the complications within the way we walk
solemn with secrets
hand steady on dashboard on morning
riding off the train tracks upon us, across
country, tell me when we’re home

how do we get back home?
place me on the map & dot your finger witnessing
ways out west cross
some backyard Minnesota where we wake off gin & tonics, walking
everyone fucks but saves kisses for goodbye’s goodmorning
we leave again breathe OJ sour of secret

to Chicago where we boys are secret
waiting for the manhunt home
they could punchbowl us into morning
into darker corners,  void of a witness
out of Boystown swagger ceases to just a walk
redline redline gets us going crosstown

where we know no one still no one as we cut across
to longhair lipstick, another secret
there—she’s still there—out walking
dragqueen supreme trying to get home
I don’t know why, perhaps cause we’re witness
we say goodbye to ghosts—still mourning?

they just whisper in our ears of morning
we are the embodiment of them crossbred
with us, their witness
behind shades & wisps of hair, their secret
unfinished business, traveling home
but transportation just isn’t what it used to be, walking

route 66 kicking dust off heels as we walk
our gassed out guzzler into a station bell’s morning
still working its antiQ ring-a-ding homing
us as the wind blows in thick crossing
tumbleweeds, the attendant points at them saying secrets—
which ones? I wonder as a drive-by witness

in Alberta we are the bright noise of boundary crossing
to her northen lights in 4am twilight (a secret)
we are witness

by James Shultis

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