Child with mother behind, rushing toward street.
Three couples with dogs, each with very big dogs.
Mother and daughter returning from memorial day celebration — mother, head down, pushing crib up the steep hill. Daughter, smiling to herself, head to one side.
Wanted to call them “Elleman turns” (U Turn) a sedan and service truck in synchronicity.
Bird propelling itself with wings just enough to get over the fence; having passed that mark, let herself flop.
Ethiopian gal asking directions to DMV (Day — um- vay) with umbrella for the strong sun.
Couple crossing, as I cross, — do I go between them as my trajectory and a sense of symmetry suggests, or instead be obedient to a vague social principle?
The idea is not that “everything I think is wrong” but that “everything I think is wildly wrong” (that the area of what I think does not, perhaps will not, intersect the area of what is the case)
Like two feet: a white van in the right lane accelerating then gliding forward, followed by a yellow school bus, a heavy step on the gas, then gliding by the white service van.
Just passed by a woman jogger — expect as she passes to breathe in her perfume– but at that moment I become enclosed in a block of aroma from a different source: laundry is being done in nearby home; strong scent of Bounce or similar product.
Area between the cuff of the electrician’s pants and the sole of his shoe, the brown curving part of the heel, or back, carved out by the grey end of the pant leg.
.i`` * ^ / . . . . . ` `~ 