The ticking clock and the dripping faucet
played percussion for me while I typed.
The clock had the beat and the water
clearly had the rhythm and I just sat
back and believed in what they were doing.
Whenever a reporter on the radio has
to whisper, I listen with my whole body.
Something in the hiss of their throats
transmits the human hum of being
and I can't help but feel akin.
Out for a walk downtown, I feel drawn
to the left, like a nerual turn signal.
I turn left at each intersection until
I come back to the same place I started
and the feeling stops.
The slower I drank
the water, the better
it tasted.
I drank
water as slow
as I could.
I drank
water.
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