A casual craziness-troubling genre
informs your carefully choreographed appearances
the bird's-eye view stuffing your pockets
with to-dos . . . Odysseyites found
in translations wander Commercial Street
among the masked . . .
The lunch hour bottlenecks at the food truck
which sports a new paintjob and new menu
redirecting you back
to your elementary school cafeteria
where you usually sat . . . alone
at a crumb-encrusted table . . .
You manage a wrap . . . then slip back
into seclusion . . . into the solace of words
fabricating fake dramas populated by flâneuses
who take explorations of cities
as their calling . . . and are rewarded
their occasional unstable footing forcing the body
to adapt to a new balance . . . a new world . . .
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