I Color (Gray)
Ever hear Weather Report play Birdland?
That’s me: as assertive as a skyscraper, as insistent as a bridge.
I’m a clean whistle.
Spider webs on hurricane fences. Art Deco decorating.
Break bubbles against your teeth, jingle the change in your pockets, and there I am, stinging the tip of your tongue, making the insides of your ears itch.
On brisk days I flip up your coat collar and steer you along the avenue, confident as a metronome, ticking ticking─ “This way, please. Quickly! Quickly!”