jim 6/09
ninety-five, five away from 100 degrees it was and I saw an older man so bored he was playing with the garden hose. hosing in the alley at the tiles. drawing on the aluminum siding like a child but gray and top-bald.
that kind of day with the air again. thick like a soft pillow all around you pushing in so that all your movements are slow. the light tags behind the sound now, its first embarrassing loss in its race to you in Ever.
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