is not your typical song and dance.
The music is drowning down by
the river. The old soft shoe is more
soggy than not. It is nothing
like tap dancing, but more like one log
or stump chucked into the water
after another. With each clump, thump,
my feet splash down on the rain-glazed
street where raindrops achieve bull’s eyes each
time. I hit my targets, watch ripples
expand like from a stone skipping across
water. And like them, I’m all wet.
