Each day is a new micro community
a locus of control as blurry
as the great Egyptian plagues of old. 
Swimming upstream has never been easier 
yet they sit there on the white rocks
pretending to drown. 

We’ve repurposed the butterflies;
where they used to stretch lazily 
on the summer gardenhose 
now they creep up quietly behind 
the bushes, so as not to be noticed. 

Even when the water is reef-clear 
still most swim with their eyes shut 
peeling kiwifruit with pairing knives
and eating teeth-first. The coffee shops 
were never before so desolate,
shuttered new ideas locked down 
along the dusted sidewalk. 

I see the people walk feet-first 
and they won’t stop. 

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