Rainy Day on Market Streets

5 word challenge: momentum, giraffes, dumpster, loop, chronicle

Rainy Day on Market Streets

the momentum of water is muscular in the gutters

how's business, street artist? No sales. I'm cold and wet

But just chillin' I guess. Hey that's funnier than I meant.

the broad shallow waves wash a loop of tideline

over pavement. every step is an interruption of rush.

strides pile up water over the feet of us giraffes.

long necked we gape past shoulders, over heads,

past damp buskers, hawking signs, protests, the

Filipino man who declares, he's coming. he's coming

soon. only those who haven't been introduced to Jesus

wonder who he means and might grab a soggy flyer.

fleeing the grass and the dirt and the pavement

we look down at the worms. Is their chronicle

of mortality a tale too small to read?

does the surfacing become Club Hermaphrodite, 

a night where everyone gets some burr and burden 

in their glandular saddles, if you know what I mean, 

when every writhing muscular being gets their clitellum 

of delight gratified, heh?

the man with the placard standing in the entrance

of the parking garage barking all have sinned and

come short, repent, repent, would be less impressed.

or is it a gratifying trauma, this visible plethora, 

this on the surface unearthed wormfest, 

just a day before the dried out dumps

dumpster, after everyone swimming, no chance 

to dive in a sub-vermiculture wasteland, nourish

what aches. Too soon coming are the tires 

and the tired after sexless struggle, tomorrow 

the tracks, casings in the sandwash of lines 

of escape for survivors. when the world is sanely dry.

when the Inuit are back out on the sidewalks sunning.

when the toothless lady with the chewed-looking-cup

looks up at each passerby and calls out haro pepo!

when the let's-just-go-eat-worms song isn't the most

cheerful tune the subconscious can muster.