April 8, 2025

tempo

It’s still too cold outside, hence this wide, flat tongue
under my feet. I count in tenths of a mile as the top
25 songs on my phone keep looping, notch up the cadence
every minute. It’s possible, in the span of a half-hour,
to forget what I’m running from, or if such a pace
would get me very far. Nearby, a man is rowing on
an ersatz Thames, a teenager flexing biceps before
a ghost crowd in the mirror. On the basketball court,
pre-schoolers play a game of dodgeball, and no one
gets hurt. Soon enough, we’ll have to face the rain,
and all the rest of it. Under the tent of a weekday afternoon,
I hide from worst case scenarios, “Fire & Fury” in my ear,
knees following the tempo, eyes straight ahead.