the day outside

Down in Little Tokyo, the three counter women smile before they smile. An air of possibility always helps. A good set of biceps can forgive much. The wrong underwear can end time. How to tailor the day to fit?

In the living room, her skirt is on the wall again; there it goes. An open window can be an end to the story, just not now with the trees all bare and arterial.

The curtains between here and there, the taxis waiting outside in a line to take us somewhere. Anywhere. How question marks always seem to overstate the matter.