t's a better day
at least better than the last
the one that happened
in blinks of eyes
and hand shakes
and hand waves
with music blasting in our ears
with drinks shading us from fears
its droplets a brush to let the cool
breeze rush against our faces
in the mid morning run with the
statues still there, still degrading
fading into the mist and fog of another Indian summer
heating the trains, heating the beaches
the people leaving home their winter coats
boats full of tourists
and we locked in libraries
waiting for it all to simply diffuse
into our skulls, the magnificence
we were given
the blessings all disclosed

and the sweat still drips at the same rates
and the man must remember there is no such
thing as fates or destinies
just approximations
summations of choices
leading us to the stream to drink
from the water, holy and serene,
while we move our cars, hair all ruffled,
as
the street cleaners need to clean

lest,
we gather,

another mountain of tickets

10/08/2005

Posted on 10/08/2005
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