This Vital Strangeness

People hanging out windows
in the middle of the city
watching the world go by
on a day when even the bricks of old buildings
are trying to reflect the sun
saying
“Go away man, I don’t got time for this.”
The people
Outside is a carousel
of random events playing out for onlookers.
And if we are the center
then this is a hell of a show
and if we are the peripheral
than this is a vital strangeness.

To be in the minds-eye of another
but not really
to live unknown in a place
that only one person can call home
and then we wait for closure
the still-lit silent passing of a red curtain
entering from both sides
as if to say:
“There now, It is done.”
and the curtain doesn’t come
and the world keeps on playing
over and over and over again.

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