Issuu on Google+

April 16th, 2012

We made it to another morning.

Yesterday a girl told us her boyfriend was dead, and a few feet away people laughed at soccer under the rain.

They were all soaked, and I ran to the garage and watched kids smoke cigarettes and speak in low voices.

3 more arrived with bicycles and water-bead jackets.

The RainNoon balloon dropped on everyone’s chest but it didn’t tear right away.

It fell ripe on the grass and no one wanted to touch it.

No one would look at it.

I think we were all afraid of the noise it would make.

I kept trying to think of the day in terms of expectations, or Probably fond memories, where the stains would be scrubbed out.

I was drinking beer and smirking at the dark perfume of spring.

We were celebrating separation.


April 16th 2012