The Somnambule's Crime
Trees
Blackening And Ringed With Red Girls
Soon as the idea of a fragile legal conflict had resolved – out of the trench hung with the familiar white vines and smaller and smaller and more breakable evenings deadened by parents and all the trees blackening and ringed with red girls straight from their blinding expensive sheets and the streets only slightly cruel for once – I noticed she was still breathing (regretfully) as the leaves were chatting and the schools squeezed out a near competency of armed workers with the sound of a broken recorder and I was headed down the street toward a sounding bell or a broken recording of a bell.