Today

...someone got a panic attack; streetcar wires shorted out; a snowflake made a pedestrian gag; a basket was woven; a commuter brushed his teeth on the highway; friends jammed out a tune in C sharp minor and the sounds of the highway were perfectly on pitch; a lab rat recoiled in horror from a 5 ms acoustic stimulus at 110 dB; children played on a carousel; pigeons scattered, feeling the stress of the passers-by; a homeless man was ignored; a door was slammed; I cooked up all matter of phantasmagoria to use in cautionary tales; a street was jaywalked diagonally; someone lost a little visual acuity because the light of the photocopier was too bright; a man bawled in front of the library while another kicked a Sprite bottle; tendentious philosophical problems were solved; thermostats lost control of cold houses; albums were recorded triumphantly; jade trees cried out for more water; Ceylon spices induced hallucinatory madness; someone cried for being one in a crowd of a thousand and very alone; a sand pile toppled unexpectedly and jammed a conveyor belt; a dozen songs were learned by rote and joyless finger-bashing; the battle of the memes will be lost in one mind--someone will drown in our culture; someone will deliberate whether to buy split-pea soup or broccolli soup; a sixteen-year-old girl met her crush and was disappointed; a shaggy-haired angel composed his unrecordable magnum opus; someone reached the bottom of that third pitcher before the cock crowed thrice; someone held out their hand in the universal debating posture when his interlocutor just wanted to share his feelings; someone's dreadlocks will be cut off; someone's bicycle will break in mid-pedal; an eight-year-old will feel jealous of her olympic hero; many more things will happen, which we must pass over in grave, reverential silence.

Consider: "You ask how I spend my time-- / I nestle against a treetrunk / and listen to autumn winds / in the pines all night and day. // Shantung wine can't get me drunk. / The local poets bore me. / My thoughts remain with you, / like the Wen River, endlessly flowing."