Tumble Dry

Sometimes I randomly think of things or moments from the past. Sometimes they’re too vivid.

The City: Laundromat by Lori Nix

The City: Laundromat by Lori Nix

Tumble Dry
JCD Kerwin

We met
in the back of a laundromat,
in plastic chairs
much too big for us.
You told me where your life was at,
and he was the one, in fact,
you gave it all away to.
I wasn’t mad,
and I wasn’t sad
(you thought I’d never
speak to you again),
but I will admit it hit
and made my heart
fall and clank
like quarters on the floor.
No more talks,
rainy walks,
or dreaming of
It’s okay; I’m glad
you fell in love and
went your own way.
I just wish we hadn’t left
all we had
in the back of a laundromat.
(Dec 2014)


Peddling into Hurricanes

This is not [just] about childhood.

Peddling into Hurricanes
JCD Kerwin

At twelve,
you biked faster than
wind storms;
made twisters
turn up in your wake

you turned blacktop
into neverlands and
neverwases just because
you made believe
it was far from here

you’re made to think
you’re a fool ‘cos you
only want
to feel your heart
beat in your throat
maybe feel the stars

because you went to Jupiter,
don’t ever let them tell you
it isn’t true;
that it was a game;
that it was all just
play, pretend…

I want to feel
that wind
and scare them all
when i laugh
at hurricanes.

people should
run from
super storms, but i
want to make history
in rain clouds.

i want to hold my hands
high above handlebars
make the wind
jealous of my might
and hear the whole world

Maybe i can believe,
(once again)
that having all these dreams
is still worth peddling
into hurricanes.

(January, 2014)

Neverland Seas

Seashells by Ira K

Into the Dark Sea
JCD Kerwin

Ira was a man I once knew who wore seashells in his hair. He smoked cigars until the vapors clouded around his dread-locked head, and he told once-upon-a-times to us town kids. Ira believed the stars were really fireflies. “They’re the brave ones that done flown too high. Got stuck up there and now they shine all night,” he said.

Ira was a man I knew who made a boat and sailed across the sea. “I’ll see you ‘round now,” he said to me. He was a magic man on a paper ship, off to find a neverland of our dreams. “If you are good, I’ll send for you someday.”

I watch fireflies now and wait. He left seashells on his porch. I kick them into rain puddles.

(June, 2013)