with leaden legs I lug the fat and heavier meat of my body shirtless with flip-flops and shorts, I’m as light as I can possibly be even to lift my eyes above a sidewalk dusted with sand and pebbles takes effort every step says it can’t wait to collapse its package onto the sofa this might not be the weather but related to my lighter associates still asleep or at least I hope that’s the case if joy or optimism had left and taken all their friends on vacation they w

it’s the 1940’s on a bench in a park his winter gloves around your little shoulders you, plump and bundled under a newsboy cap, he with his fedora, fat tie and overcoat no one is smiling in this colorless picture under cracked glass but you know he smiled often, and you did too that you are sure of that you remember love hides a lot in photos too shy to show the world the truth of its existence preferring, for some odd reason to portray our lives in black and white

if you or I were one of my goldfish it wouldn’t take long for us to show something like pond misery, lolling bored under a lily pad sitting sadly on the bottom or staring with hopeless eyes at the sky humans despise prisons of any kind while fish can make a life even a happy one from simple curiosity, of the shadow that crawls over the lily of all that falls to the muddy bottom and so much still-time to ponder stars, impossible to do in an aquarium at night they can als