These outbursts—of early April rain
drops fall-
ing
thick,
loudly,
indiscriminate—onto
brick
and
vinyl siding—pelting
embossed tin
and
terracotta tiles—dripping from crooked
wood poles suspending
rubberized wires,
aluminum
fence posts
and wrought iron
fire stairs—and plunking
against the white plastic sandwich-
board sign of the
shabby
fat man taking a
piss in the
back alley—seem to explain little
regarding whether
he ought to
feel either—happy or unhappy.
