Thursday, June 17, 2004
This is a Career
We run into people in the streets. They say Hey! Dude! We're in these streets!, and we say nothing, and run into them again. They roll up their sleeves, revealing grey anchors and images of black barbed wire. They say Yeah! These arms are wicked ours!, and point them at us, as we run into them. Now there's a fluffy dog. Their tight pants bulge with incredulity. The sunblasted blacktop shines with motor oil and immigration. We run into them again, in the streets, with nothing in our smiles. The train's only one car, there are no seats. They're going to be late for work. We help them up, off the streets, run into them one last time, help them back up, and take them to work. Briefly our fists touch. We make plans to go to Six Flags when the weather's nicer.
We run into people in the streets. They say Hey! Dude! We're in these streets!, and we say nothing, and run into them again. They roll up their sleeves, revealing grey anchors and images of black barbed wire. They say Yeah! These arms are wicked ours!, and point them at us, as we run into them. Now there's a fluffy dog. Their tight pants bulge with incredulity. The sunblasted blacktop shines with motor oil and immigration. We run into them again, in the streets, with nothing in our smiles. The train's only one car, there are no seats. They're going to be late for work. We help them up, off the streets, run into them one last time, help them back up, and take them to work. Briefly our fists touch. We make plans to go to Six Flags when the weather's nicer.
