sunny sunday.

April 17, 2008

today, i was meant to go to the library
to work on some plan, far away,
of little significance to this
backwater paradise.

gleaming towers, rising elephantine on the
horizon, tiny city on the cliffs,
a hill of science a world apart
from the middle class and the
zombied, lost souls, bitter somnolence
dancing with mad conjecture.

to enjoy the warm hum of cinnamon
alongside coffee in a hardware store
with a mother, a sister, a wife
a confidante in sandals like mine.

new clothes fit for a prince or an
artist, far from that glowing
town, miles away from
the truths of sorrow
and hope,

distilled into ink and electrons.

here i am, disgruntled flâneur in
council assembled, hours later,
with the drunk, the scholar, the lover and the scorned,
fighting the baser urge to go
and do and live and become.

open skies and deadened streets are my canvas,

naked, mysterious and familiar.

i step, with long strides.
into night.
into wonder.
into song.


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