i wish i understood how the world went by,
but i can’t seem to sync up the music with
the rhythm of the tides
as they come crashing into the shore,
while a family of 2 adults and 2.5 children sing rap songs
a capella from paterfamilia’s childhood
charcoal flickering on and off,
as the night wears on,
the cervezas kick in
while sweat drips down every limb
to coat the night air in a salty elixir
that’s bound to end in regrets
at any given moment,
some might turn the corner
and hand me a microphone with little to no instruction,
expecting me to say something, anything really,
but i’m fairly certain i won’t know what to say,
so i will politely place the microphone down,
running as quickly as i can away from it
Fred Aiken Writing 