Sun drenched,dry,humid, air of summer
tin roof of debris, littered with beer bottles from
the nights before
dusty old Thunderbird, fading in color...and in desire
watered plants dripping,drops hitting the hot
pavement below from the second floor apartment
a man with a millon soda cans in trash bags, all
attached to a shopping cart crosses an alleyway,then
suddenly...somehow disappears
in front of a cottage house sprinklers drizzle water
onto the pavement, in hopes of summoning grass
a woman with a baby stroller stands in line for a bus,
a wisp of her dark hair spangles in the breeze
a box of jalapeno peppers lies spilt in the street,
a mysterious contradiction of commercialism, food,and
nature
W.C.Fields look-alike drunk with a walking cane
rattles a paper machine vigorously for free change,in
hopes of finding enough coffee money to sober up his
lifelong hangover
a woman sits exhausted on an old sofa abandoned by
a trash dumpster, as if one persons trash is another
persons only choice
the sunlight streams through the trees,as does
through my lashes awakening every part of the world
into that in which we see
