Hot heat wraps tendrils of vapor around my neck

A slight suffocation in the drawl of Texas summer

Music pulsates through bars and house parties

As freshly 18 year old halflings down booze like it's their last day on earth

Their feet leaving their childhood in whatever town they abandoned to reap the rewards of the Live Music Capital of the World

A rhythm thrums throughout the city in spite of the sticky sweet sun

Runners, determined to be undeterred by steam rising off concrete, pound the pavement and push their pulse perpendicular

Pleasurable? Perhaps. *Perhaps*

Cars castrated by the constant construction and carousel of other cars, you are the traffic

And the clear blue sky beckons soft clouds to flee

An ever changing landscape grows more neon, more modern as the time slips by

Tech booms while academia denies reality and pushes back on the protests against genocide

The blue dot drowns in a sea of red

To be an American is to face the horror of consequences

To be in Texas is to deny the reality of such horror

Austin is a culture ever dying and being reborn

The foundation of its existence constantly shifting and sagging under the truth of the its current state

Change seeps into pores and a million tiny cries perish in an eventual silence

The beauty of a place is in its inconsistencies

Homogeny is hostility and to remain stuck is to expire

To lose hope of a better tomorrow by focusing on the preservation of today

And yet nostalgia is a powerful drug

I yearn for parts of days gone by

Some days I’ve only heard about relayed by the elders

Will I grow old enough to have those stories?

I feel like I have them already

For 2,347 days I was singed and welcomed by the relentless Austin sun

Maybe when I’m gone long enough, I’ll be wistful for that too

By Taylor Moessinger