Tuesday, August 18, 2009

One Great Gulp

I was barefoot, my yellow rain coat on, dark glasses, a bug bite on my upper arm itched, gloves, a ski mask, a black hat. Four or five accidents happened all at once down on Western. A body lay in the street and nobody came. A woman stood on the curb, longing. Clouds were coming out of the Union Bank Building. Somebody said "flagpolla unfirma." A large strange piece of furniture slipped from my grip over the side. In the infinitesimal distance I caught the red mouth of Angel's Flight. The body in the street began to rise into the air. My heart went out to him and then came back to me in fear. I was in my own arms, so confused I understood everything in one great gulp and rose to face the day.

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