PARADE

crumpled on the table
the ripped opening of a plastic package
conceals more than it hides

it was opened and emptied and now
it is used has
been used cannot
be used any longer we would like
to note that it once had some use
to one of them
to the other
it was something less than what
was expected
waving hands extended hands still hands taking a
picture hands extending downwards to the side posing still
pushing the hair back finished cupped hands the end of a stream
of words of a wall of silence
the rapids of the river below envelope dirty clothes
clouds filter the sun's rays
a slate aura casts over their faces

the random stirrings of streamers in the light wind above the
relaxed wrinkles on his forehead his eyebrows 
the contortions of the napkin as it flies off the table into the street
a strained effort from her to overtake the influence of 
the wind on the napkin as it flies off her mind  
into the twilight 

a twilight that sprouts small
yellow flowers and green foliage
unwillingness to budge from seats
they are glued to weightless in the evening breeze

a wet slippery vegetable thrown by the wind
 
fixation on the single word "throw"
 
to the exclusion of all others there
 
are no heavy objects anymore

world shrunk to the size of a bag of peanuts scrunched in the fist without the shell the breath of life without the clay to breathe it into a risk that not taken sprouts moons and smiles and gentle curves and sand dunes that envelope us while we're not looking have you taken out the trash yet all those residues of thoughts that need to be swept away before we can begin