N.

Across the evening sky, all the birds are leaving. But how can they know it’s time for them to go?

…

I do not count the time. For who knows where the time goes? Who knows where the times go?

It’s …

It’s a number. It’s a song. It’s a boy. Smooth. Pearl joy packed. Gold falafel, as through ice. It’s four-thirty. Morning with phone calls. It’s deaf mute. It’s cheap. A foreign car. Maybe bingo. Lucky night?

Something says it smells bad.