The Walker. .. today i went to the park ... i walked there ... i brought my little black satchel ... and in it i put a deck of well beaten cards...a small...but full sketchpad ... a banana...my stereo discman... ... and a book to read ... i checked the skies for rain...and sure enough it would rain ... today was going to be a good day ... i strode out into the brisk air ... its the kind of air that has a faint tinge of fall in it... ... at the park i came to my favorite fountain ... and there i sat...10 feet away ... admiring the way water, in its chaos, makes the most beautiful patterns ... i held 3 or 4 conversations with imaginary alter egos...and proceeded to read my book ... the banana came in hand two hours later when the sun came out ... my stomach had begun to feel angry ... a short while later the clouds folded their curtains back again enclosing the sun ... i was able to remove my sunglasses and play a quite a few hands of solitaire on the bench surface beside me ... at this time a bird flew by and perched lightly on the bench...it was a park pigeon ... ignorant as we are of the cruel world outside ... it flew away with haste when it noticed that i was a living being ... content with my surroundings and my mood i took up my belongings and walked aimlessly ... towards the small starbucks shop ... it is there that i enjoyed a cup and a half of coffee, for i can never get down the last little bit ... and the most delightful crumple cake ... eager to return to my abode i set foot down the well trodden sidewalks and crossways that lead home ... watching the denizens flit to and fro...point a...point b...and A again...not stopping to notice that the fountain had a crack in it and looked like it might not last the next winter ... not noticing that a stop sign was perched at an odd angle ... dangling off of a solitary screwed ... a fatal accident waiting to happen ... is the world a closely knit principal? bound by fate and controlled by design? ... or is it chance...a circumstance that moved us one place...and is now leaving us behind ... nobody will ever know...or fully care ... i'll just keep walking ![]() The Memory of Cities
citadel of factitious stone crumbles below
concrete strips of pavement...crumbles below
sprawling abandonment crying
a ritual morning twisted nevermore
thousands of miles an hour
dark boy cast in light
melted plastic lifted with gentle hands
shattered memories like shards of glass
the cycle renews ![]() |
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