Man's rain: an albatross

around my neck, like a

linguistic noose.

A dull, literary noose.

The agless dripping

in porcelin prisons,

the dust behind mirrors,

the diagnolly parked cars

like so many fallen dominoes,

sequestered in yellow-painted

stables.

The relentless green of park

bench shadows: dull,

dreary, leafy shadows.