hiss and fizzle out

Hiss and Fizzle Out

About how they used to take turns letting the others bury them,

a couple of minutes later they came speeding back. Again they

think walking on your hands is kind of creepy. Yeah? And you're the

sand everywhere? Sand in the couch, sand on the kitchen table;

too much water had worked its way in. I rolled the stones off,

and now, for the first time in my life, I'm doing exactly what I want:

nothing. There was the vacuous snuffle of the wind, but no more

wiping his face with his filthy T-shirt. His face ended up dirtier

in the Central Park boating pond with my real friends. Did you,

if someone had pushed over a mannequin in a department,

want to look in the enemy's direction so I took it on faith?

Maybe you ought to think about moving down here.