Street Scene, 2/28/13

April 13, 2013      James Hayes Nichols
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From the balcony, the cityscape unfolded like a sick drunk pukepuddle in a waking garden dream, it smelled sweet and barnyardy, earthy like mildew, grainy like the inside of an old beercan, but that was only the lawn below—the exhaust managed to stay streetlevel with the walkers and the hipsters, the old ladies and the bums:  they choked it in and smiled and kept going, going, going into the urban dreams far below and away from your balcony reverie.  Up here the air was clean and sharp to the breath and the city loomed in the near distance like some gorgeous hangover from a gorgeous spiky night you never wanted to end; never now, never later, never God but you DO get carried away sometimes—summary:  a good vista on a cold day, with cold drinks, cold friends.

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