Night Ambling

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Very Little To Report Tonight. The Prairie-Style Estates Along Hoyne Ave Collect Dust in August. Their Owners May Be On Vacation In Places Like Michigan or Even The Catskills. The Great, Flat Homes Are Dark or Sometimes Overly Bright, But the Absence of Flickering Televisions On Windows and Through Curtains Is a Dead Giveaway. Nobody’s Home. So Don’t Come Knocking. Not That I Would. I’m Just Here to See Something Interesting. Instead It’s All Unlocked Bicycles On the Porch and Basketballs Sprouting Like Harvest Pumpkins In the Yard. A City Bunny Feels at Home in the Meadowy Lawn of One Particularly Expansive Single-Family Home, the Fenced In Gardens Big Enough that an Ornate Metalwork Bench Looks Like a Reasonable Ornament. If You Sat On It for More Than a Minute You’d Probably Get Bug Bites. I Bet They Haven’t Sat On It for More than Twenty Minutes Total, the Whole Stinking Lot of Them. I Put My Cigarette Out on a Tree and Cluck My Teeth Conversationally at the Bunny, Who Runs In the Other Direction with Her/His Thumper Nose Frantically A-Twitching. She/He Disappears Into the Sagebrush Or Whatever The Family Is Cultivating Here in the Profound Quiet of a 10:30 P.M. Monday Evening in Sleepy North Center, a Neighborhood Frozen Like a Frank Lloyd Wright-Designed Mastodon in Ice. Finally, Rounding Onto Damen Ave, I Espy Some Life in a Fourth Floor Flat, the Lamplight and the Boys Skin Nearly the Exact Same Shade of Copper. They’re Sitting Around a Kitchen Table Talking, Two of the Boys in Glasses. The Flat Is Alive with Books Stacked Vertically on Shelves and Colorful Posters I Can’t Quite Read and Plants Suspended from the Ceiling, Everywhere Enriched by That Copper Light. I Want to Bathe In It With Them. I Wonder if Their Water Isn’t Copper, As Well, and Their Food a Rich Shade of Burgundy and Amber. I Wave to Them From Across the Street, But They Can’t See Me. Or Their Conversation Is Too Engrossing to Look Out the Window. Or They Could See Me But They Refuse To See Me, Because I Am Dull, and the Moon Is Full, and They Know How Their Light Would Blind Me. 

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