And the seltzer stream sizzled on the sidewalk, crouched down in unblinking terseness, tied together with the shadow of the sun like crept down hunches all along the Avenue to the other avenue down the block – down the streets we walk down but not today.
_________________Today we were watching what was becoming of water.
We admire the others burgeoning splendid. The hurt like a torrent, a torpedo. The way they twitter and splunge. Their foresome boots and blanketed hoover. A reckoning that sends us past the spaces between what is said and done, like so much water under the bridge.
_________________________It was in the morning when we stopped & stood & clasped our hands in horror.
Our catastrophe of habits, like a scent of quince and twine and thirteen ways of naming the bird Blair. Our lack of value in the trivet just of beauty and being. Our realization of a breach upon a gently violent pretend good day, one that curtains our masculinity in velvety suffocation.
_________________________________Like someone we’d never admire, let alone be.
