Just getting out of the house

After the loathing
of leaving care unfinished
and then for the next
to the next

I walk out as a child
going to school
with focus
covered by the
benign wool of parents

as I turn the first block
I broadly smile
a decade older
with beach and pop music.

Foreseeing here that
I will be crossing the road
I have reached 30 years
of age

my breath is still bright
yet decisions have been made
about some vigilance
about tripping on the concrete.
I carry folders and pens.

I am meeting a long lived sometimes friend
there's a new beam to this
as my oldest friend here
knows well from
the leprous corpse et
obsessive exhuming
to the games
between chain gang companions
locks picked by longing
and protraction

the once were

i must hatefully leave the care
i cannot complete for my wishes
and then for the next
to the next.