“Same angular velocity”: as my head swiveled toward that woman across the street, that woman across the street raised her thermos to her mouth.

Man watering garden plants in same careless manner you’d hose anything down — mud from sidewalk, soap off car… Loose grip on nozzle handle; a waving motion so lackadaisical it could be interpreted either as circular or side to side; sprays lawn and perimeter fence as much as garden.

Toddler walking in grass nearby. Though so small, he seems to walk like a giant, raising feet much higher than necessary.

Oddly tone-deaf Sherwin-Williams ad on truck side. It seems to enjoin us to “cover the world in paint” and portrays a globe being immersed in a paint can.

Looking away from staring at a stranger (middle-aged white woman putting stuff in the back of her parked car at the Quadruple A) to discover I am myself being stared at by a stranger (young Latino garbage man in full-on reflective gear, appearing out of “alley” of Quadruple A.)

Squirrel’s scrambling path describes trapezoidal pattern when I approach –each corner a reconsideration– then clambers up ornamental tree.

Counting several seconds behind the watch: when it says 47, you think 44, when it says 48, you think 45 (achieving what when you do this?) (Trying to beat, to otherwise get at, Time.) (Disorient your own notions of it, you perhaps mean.) (Right.)

Rectangle of sky seen between the four tires of the ART bus as it crests the Walter Reed Hill. This now trapezoidal space of sky has suddenly emerged between its tires, but is almost as quickly occluded by the front of the bus, then the bus itself is concealed by the hill.

My head having already been turned to a greater than 90 degree angle – or so it feels with my eyes continuing to scroll – I must either stop my forward progression, or stop watching the tennis players.

What is the relationship between the stone garden gnome on the steps and the weeping willow in the yard? (Only willow on the route though not the only gnome.)

The only willow, the only seated gnome on the stairs, the only freestanding flagpole in the yard, its halyards causing something to repeatedly clank in the wind just now.

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