By Marc Craver
two ducks and a seagull sit on the quai where the two rivers meet
They don’t talk to each other
but they seem to be saying something
it seems to be important
but whatever it is
it doesn’t involve me.
I kept walking past the drunks who sat on the steps at the square with the horses that had smoke coming from their noses
but they could not breathe life into themselves.
I don’t know why I just didn’t stop and sit with the drunks at least I would finally know my place.