…and i think i’ll tally the days in orange light…
…in the sunset i peered at through the horizontal lines in the rear window of the taxicab
craning my neck against the filmy glass to see the glowing orange disappear gradually behind buildings
and as the sun sank down i silently begged the cab to speed up, so it could throw me up onto the street
so i could catch the elevator as it shot up to the 63rd floor of my apartment building
so i could trip in the refracted glare towards the balcony and search for where the sun goes to die
cursing the poorly timed cab ride because i couldn’t see if the light set fire to the horizon
knowing that the buildings, not the cab ride, laughed at me as they protected the fleeting moment
from my prying perspective, my contorted torso as it leaned over the railing
refusing to accept that it would always be the buildings
that i would always feel the orange without seeing it entirely…
…in the last minute blinkers on the cars that navigate Chicago at nighttime
where the nonexistence of the dotted white lines scares my roommate
i didn’t notice the chaos until she pointed it out but i think it’s alright if you focus on the blinkers
how they explode when you squint and the orange shards ricochet off the city glass
don’t blink or you’ll miss a blinker in this city
i missed one once with the city bus driver but he missed me just barely
and his horn sounded orange, somehow, like a fiery comet hurling down Ontario Street
heading straight for my Honda but my roommate and i just blinked and turned left…
…and i think i’ll see the orange again tomorrow and i don’t know if i want to or not.
