Archive for August 4th, 2011
Under the supposed sound of rain, we are all dry, waiting for that time long ago when the sister of the famous tennis player drove her H3 off the cliff and landed, making a puff, coming back as a big bus that presently roils our nerves as we know we should be in another place where better things are happening to people of good will who are too self-centered to realize how blessed the air has been to them, and the bus, it steals our memories of good and inspires our fears of future.
The delicate lady crosses the street.
stuck anew and the crow still rests.
When the man, or a boy, with his Keds,
blew by, the lady wanted acknowledgement,
but he was bouncing with joy and his eyes
were not aware of the cityscape. She was
fine china breaking up the lines and screaming
in need, but he had no needs. The elephant
crawled into the atrium, and it was world’s
largest cave with synchronized flash bulbs
blowing out the sensation of stability.
I beckoned. She was busy, but she
understood. Maybe another time.