sittin on the banks of the tevere watchin the waters churn beneath pale blue sky round isola tiberina with it's steps covered in sand from the river that rose to wash out arches of bridges, to carry off debris from city to sea, to splash walls tagged with graffiti, to ornament the limbs of trees with rubbish.
a ray of sun shines through a sweetgum tree and i think of hourglasses turned over on picnic tables, windmills spinning in rolling fields, hamsters running inside of wheels, faucets dripping in empty sink basins. a seagull squawks over your shoulder and you look up to see an oil lamp burning in a pigeon's perch. a rat climbs into your canoe so you dip oar in and paddle.
funny how a single leaf hanging from a broken limb shudders in the breeze. also funny how a bug can crawl in your ear and let out a moan. some nights the chickens scratch at my throat and others i've got bats roosting in my rib cage. most days i'm sangin but today i'm a steady hum.