the commons

they change the flowers in their beds every two weeks. i guess once they start weeping, they're out of there. they cover the george washington statue at night. the homeless men yell obscenities at me as i walk past. couples crowd the benches during the afternoon and eat lunch together. businessmen take naps inbetween meetings. children feed the swans and the mallards moldy remains from last week's peanut butter and jelly sandwiches -- crunched at the bottom of the bag, forgotten. then there are the geese crowding the grass picking at worms while mingling with the squirrels. it's all there till fall.

with fall comes the putrid stink of the duck pond, forever uncleaned and ignored. dead leaves and frozen rat corpses. it's a time to be scarfy and pray it doesn't get colder.

but the thing i miss most is a certain man. he's been here since i've been a freshman -- reddish hair to his shoulders, janitor's broom mustache, sweat suits and workman's boots. he sits in the grass and just observes. just sits and watches. by the time, 3pm rolls around and i walk by again, he's napping. alone in the grass. he doesn't have any friends and he doesn't click at the squirrels like i do. he's always just there.

he disappears during the winter, then comes back in the spring. i've never said hello because, quite frankly, he scares me. it's just comforting to see something that never changes. a constant. 
¶ 5:52 PM |