by Michael Ian
I’m walking down the street today because I don’t have anything better to do. The thick air of the city pulsates with its each breath, the trodden gray of the sidewalk undulates and retires with each step, my shoes raindrops in shimmering pools of concrete. One empty face slides past and then another, multitude and diversity swirls by, overwhelming, unfathomable, humanity embracing facsimile . .