I don’t have any answers. I’m starting to lose faith that they exist. That maybe this is a tangle of logical implications that nothing is nothing. That somewhere along the verification of this mess we exist between corollaries 17:08, September 22, 2011 (UTC)

I wrote that. I wrote this. But I didn’t write what follows

He wrote this. He always wanted to write. I never let him. He wouldn’t disobey

This is what he has to say: Hello

He’s a little shy. Talks too much. Nothing to say until you leave

In every moment between there’s the urge to apologize. To grab shoulders and shout: I’m sorry

Then eye contact is made and it’s back to fuck off

I’m sorry: fuck off

It follows. Back to itself, but only repeats when it doesn’t look back

Enough of it. Back to him

He’s standing on a corner watching storm clouds. It’s not really raining. People think it is though; they have umbrellas. It’ll rain soon. But not right now. Right now there’s other matters to attend to

Down the narrow stairs into the subway. Running down the escalator. This’ll be the ruiner. But it’s necessary

He’s standing. Waiting. There’s other people. They’re waiting too. Are you bored of this guy yet? I am too. So let’s follow that other guy. He’s going the other way. He won’t see the guy we’ve just abandoned show up late for a date he’ll break off from in another month

This new guy is a guy’s guy. But that isn’t going to come into play. There’s more important matters to attend to. Like getting an umbrella before it rains. He’s pretty sure it won’t start raining for another two and a half hours. He’s going to be pushing on three after losing an hour from a delay described as “passenger injury on track level”

Do to not get stuck on a subway, we’ll follow that gal who’s getting off before the delay. She’s already got an umbrella. It’s red. She found it a couple months ago on a park bench. That’d been a nice day. She’d used the umbrella for shade

On her walk that day through the park, she’d passed a couple on a walk through that same park. It’d be unusual to pass someone in a different park while walking through a park. I’m sure it’s happened before

That couple broke it off by the time she got off the train before its hour delay. They’d still be friends. Friends who had a fair day in a park one afternoon

She’s climbing the stairs rather than taking the escalator. There’s a few people coming down the escalator. I’m feeling cozy here, so why not follow that bald man in a suit who’s coming down. He closed his umbrella once inside. The umbrella is dry. It’s a dark grey slate colored umbrella

He holds it in front of himself like a cane while he waits for the train. Centered. Head turned, looking down the tunnel. A furrowed brow. He’s not in a rush

The man walking in circles behind him should be in a rush. He’s suppose to be getting married yesterday. He decided to inspect subway stations instead. They still haven’t found him. But here he is. The woman he was going to marry yesterday is crying right now

Crocodile rain. That’d be a good title. I thought of the term a few days ago. I’ven’t revealed it until now. Nothing in my action changed until this moment, besides that short eye flick while standing half in the kitchen and half out while considering what such a mangle of nonsense would mean. Now I know

So a train comes along and some guy is too busy looking at ads to notice his stop so one less person is in that bunch of people coming out as would like

One down. There’s another man down in a short while