Blackened tea kettle like one I have at home, couch with living man,
eyes closed, his dog and runny dog shit on sidewalk. Cardboard boxes,
lamp shade, the filter basket of a drip-o-later, a wooden serving tray
with loose bottom. A mouse's body with eyes open and intact.
Styrofoam peanuts. 2 balsa wood whiskey bottle boxes, thin wooden
fruit basket. Wooden construction walls with POST NO BILLS painted
gray. A piece of paper ordering the closing of the Mars Bar garden. A
man setting out 4 candles, and 2 sets of wrapped paper plates. A
junkie couple, white, late 30s, covered in scabs and tattoos with
dog, had contructed a lean-to over the couch and slept that day.
I thought about what brought them to this moment and thought
"be in the moment," thought "be here now,"
thought "what's the worse thing that could happen?"
Thought "shit happens." And began to think "today is
the first day of the rest of. . ." Thought this could be the best day
of their lives.