Yellowback skin

We find peace by the riverbank off the olentangy trail
That swirls it's way through victorian village
Under bridges toward grandviews train rails
Around the city past rich and mound
Past art studios and rehabbed taverns in a part of town I wouldn't have walked in until now
But the area is trending
And I laugh at the pretentiousness
Wouldn't have kicked a can probably Just parked and ran but time has taken down old fences
And built them up with suspension
A community banded
A collective of revolutionaries in a warehouse standing up
And reaching out
Hands tied and painting words in a book of disquiet
Canvas's expanding the demand for further experiment
Counterculture is certainly alive and well
But is it closer than we think
When we learn to separate ourselves from our wealth
Then we will be settled in the Ink
When we find peace on the streets mid July with skin weeping
Just people watching
Just seeing
The way the flow through Downtown goes viral at lunch
And Watching everyone scramble to avoid that end of day rush
Cuz we crumble in traffic like cookies in milk
And sinking to the bottom like chocolate chips into sediment silt
And the last glass will fill past the spill mark
The last passing of the past will not be the hard part
But I'm willing to accept it's fabric and sew it closed
Show the present that I'm no longer on hold
Searching for answers in a world of lost control
For I find peace in these sentences as they roll from my fingertips
Keypadded and digitally mastered on yellowback skin with paper envy
Now it's too far in to begin to edit
So I just spill my words at will and to life I owe the credit