NOT SO STRANGE
'Thanks for the mammaries? Is that what
I heard?' Some guy was singing in the
12th Street park - he had a small
keyboard set-up and was sitting by
himself. Next to him, on this fairly
warm day at the end of a month at the
tail of a Winter, carrots and cabbage
were set out to buy. The old wooden
tables sagged, yet this guy kept singing.
Others passed by, and that snippet came
from the one in the blue jacket. I love the
misunderstood moment and the mixed up
words of all this passing time.
Once, in a time long ago, there were locals
here : native in olive skin, casting small
stones out into an oyster-clogged river.