we can coexist

the rich fighting fish finds its reflection, like a brother’s forked electrical outlet that sent vibrations down his asking arm. we have it all but find ourselves unsatisfied. we’ll change with the all-too-calm and expectant predictions. maybe lash out at four years of track laid out and waiting for the train, old-info lectures and high school seniors entering to watch me happily poke a frog with electrodes. distance isn’t everything, i could do this at home. distance isn’t everything. close to home but in a different place, a television’s news setting streaming buildings like this sharp-arched mosque: labeled niches like preschools or clean thrift stores. my torn shoes rarely crouch against public places but they’re now erratically jumbled, school acquaintances smoothing robes. resting but prepared to pray three more times today - off the floor, talking loudly again and little kids running past the glass cookie trays, coaxing servers to put more cake on their plates. invitations and why they’re glad to see me here, our mayor seated two rows before and gleaming. not the tacked and trimmed type you’d expect, not that i voted for him or even knew his name. carelessness boasts itself with vigor and pride. in concert on the waterfront, my friends went. they’ll nip at my side for broadening my mind, or so the rabbi says, the mullah, pastor too. jokes and side comments, then why we’re here today. planned before boston but ready to memorialize pain: peace and prosperity unto everyone we meet. film rolls unloading, children holding cookies now the cake’s gone. they run barefoot before us and we grin to see similarities.