Terminal Musings

Finding my way

The Deal

I see yous turn – both enter the stall,
to the sea of us
Flash of green, bag of white fast-moving, your
imagined sleight-of-hand, and –

then it’s over.

You move – I leave; all
to wash clean
in bored Coney Island crowds.

September 6th, 2015


The urinal coughs, splutters toilet-bowl blue when he punches it.


Then lean-forward and grabs it – calloused hand on porcelain white and burnished pipe.

When do we rwahr mhrrmmm…
Lapses into incomprehensibility.

The urinal is silent.

Switches to Spanish and tries again.

The urinal – still silent.

Suddenly he arches his neck and throws his head back screaming “Fire!” to the lights as he lets loose, roiling the water green with discharged energy.

September 5th, 2015

Population: 40

1, 2, 5 –
so many!
You roam with impunity,
fast movers all
Your movements effect immediate magic:
turns party girls to ballerinas each,
forms pirouetting –
twirling open toes from curious advance
Others sing – Eww, Eww, Eww – voices scraped and high
backing vocals
to your tender rodent symphony

September 5th, 2015