A Day in the City
Easy to say that all things end, but beginnings are preludes
to loss in disguise.
The aquarium was much bigger than expected.
Children screamed with joy,
Howled at the sharks.
The clown making balloon animals seemed out of place. Had
he been in the tank with the turtles and catfish, we
would have surely nodded and approved.
Before we left, we were frisked.
I had just slipped a fish into
Luckily the guard laughed, though, and threw the fish right back
into the tank, ignoring the fact that this poor fish was
a salt-water creature, and trying to breathe in fresh-water
would lead to a disastrous end.
Soon the day was over.
The five dollar admission fee,
Which seemed ridiculous at the time
Turned out to be well worth it.
We all laughed some more.
Heavy With Drink and Tenure
On every floor there are students, tense, but still jovial,
shoving equations, phrases, statistics into their heads
hoping the random, yet rumored to be useful information
will stay put until the eight o'clock organic chemistry exam.
I take the stairs to the basement and chuckle inwardly.
My yellow-tipped fingers scamper down the shelves.
Bugs loll belly-up under the fluorescent lights. Dust drizzles
down to my hair. Mice are running one aisle over; I hear them
over the hiccups and hum of the water fountain. A robotic voice
booms from the intercom, tells me the time to depart
creeps closer. I gather myself. Never mind if I stink and stumble
around on Scotch, I say to the Freshmen mice on the way out.
Perhaps tomorrow our lives will overlap between the shelves.
You will fumble a corner and see yourself smiling
in my accidental gaze and ruby face. The truth that dances
in my dapper eyes shall scare the information out of you.