Blue Skies

Blue skies blue skies blue skies blue skies. Blue skies make me want to puke. The sun is out, making a mockery of warmth. The streets are encrusted in salt, or whatever chemical they use to melt ice on the pavement. One interesting thing about a long deep-freeze is you see how much black sludge cars emit from exhaust and off their tires and engines, and along the side of the road where the cars are parked the ice and snow is totally black. Where does this go in warm weather? Into the grass, and into the ground, in the sewers, and into the lake. The lake I was able to swim in when I moved here six years ago, but no longer can.

Maybe I should go back underground. I was much happier there. I wouldn’t have to necessarily find the mysterious tunnel down at the end of the block, or the gold mine, or the passageway to the center of the earth. I could simply head down into the deep tunnel. There is a manhole to it, marked with fluorescent spray-paint over on Kilbourn, I've noticed walking by there. I could hang out down there with "The Family" whose aversion to the sun, while not for the same reason as mine, is no less as strong.