lady like a feather

pads into the circle

and taps the arm of a musician

she has spoken to before.

she requests a song

and then returns to the park bench

where her voice warbles and cracks

and she closes her eyes.

banjo man

stops playing to introduce himself

to the new fiddle girl

and tell her not to stress out

and enjoy herself

and i can't imagine

this attention makes her relax.

crowd under the oak tree

cringe collectively

when the wind blows

and acorns fall all around.

red purple blue green

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

be happy

you will be succesful

you need a blow job

you will be a striper

doc

tor

you're a bitch

i'm gonna scew you.

sucide.

frame like matchsticks

wrapped in baggy cotton

topped with a cap on backwards

studies the ripples

where the line swings underwater,

where the tiny claw drifts lazily

and waits.

seagulls swoop and dive

and dive and swoop again

like charcoal tracing contours

of a tangled ball of yarn

and below them in the pond

rented boats

of worried families

watch the storm roll in

and wish they had picked a better day

and try not to think about lightning.

acorns in clusters

seem to glow just below

the surface of the pond.

in the mens' room

by the cafeteria

"gullible" is written on the ceiling.

except it really is.

foreign gentleman

slips off his sandals and puts his feet up

in his city bench living room

and studies the morsel

on the end of his finger

that he has removed from his nostril.

it bounces on piston legs

and tosses scraps of trash

with its pointed mouth

and follows my movements

in its shiny black eye

like a drop of dark oil

rolling across a dry autumn leaf.

delicate elephant skin

and hair like jet stream.

she runs hesitantly,

with short static steps,

towards the departing bus.

robot screen stutters and stammers

and can't do anything right

and she curses with frustration,

even her,

with church tattoos up her sleeve

and soft deliberate speech.

i expect less humanity

from someone with her connections.

red wax spread

across a black ink rose

on cheap white paper

on the sidewalk

by the orphanage.

empty black chair

faces me across the room

and studies my features

with solemn indifference.

warrior kneels

in shallow waves

receives his swinging blessing.

communion cup

of blood like wine

trickles down his temple.

her sketch lies open

between me and the speaker

and i struggle

not to stare.

he stands at the front of the auditorium

and turns and smiles

and examines a list.

i make eye contact

with a light brown dog

which stares from the back seat

of an suv

stopped at a red light.

ghost

around back, by the fire escape,

ten-speed tombstones

bright white, chained to the fence,

wait patiently

to mark corners

for lost lives.

i'm thrown into a chanting circle

of jabbering booze zealots

who mock lightweights

and get so blazed

and lust after northeastern

and look down on subways

if they lived in the city they'd get a sick car

they'd have to

'cause fuck subways.

college girls

with fancy flip flops

and sunglasses back

on straightened scalps

and they joke about the library

and she's coming over?

she texted

i hate allen

i feel like he doesn't even like her

she's like puking

and their buddy chimes in,

i was ready to beat the shit out of him

i was so mad

you're too much of a pussy.

the man in the blue fedora

continues his awkward pursuit

of younger women

who politely ignore his advances

until his intentions become too blatant

and they shut him down

like a broken appliance.

so he sits in the corner for awhile

until his confidence

and his delusion

rise up again.

columbus

paper shapes of land

and lines of inky coast.

deformed sliver of unknown.

but we know what lies within,

what will catch us when we sleep--

cannibal!

a raised cleaver,

a beast goring our flesh with pale white tusks!

sharp black form

hill of glass and steel

looms out the window

like a burnt skull

resting its gaze

on my shoulder.

the whole block marches

to the pile driver beat and

steel crawls underground.

he extends one arm,

ended in a fist,

and then

he extends one finger,

posing a question.

but no one notices

and he retracts the finger.

his fist remains.

the guilt of sitting

weighed against

the awkward connection

of giving up your seat

and the risk

of upsetting a feminist

leave me paralyzed.

i am puzzled by a man

older than the other students

wears a colorful collared shirt

jowels hang uneven

and why is he here?

art and sculpture,

human interaction

all seem to come with great effort

and little result.

her voice falters

when someone yells from the back

to talk louder

and she acknowledges,

but continues at the same volume

only faster.

the speaker got too personal

his vulnerability exposed

and we sat stone still

and applauded when he was finished

with relief and pity.

a friend i did not expect

sat down beside me

and we spoke

until the slide show began

and he slipped away.

the national guard stood by with rations

flashlights and bottled water

and this morning, after nothing happened,

the sky seems to shrug.

it never promised excitement.