Far

It’s raining, but it’s not far

eating out, for a change of a pace

the dash to the street corner

the droplets in one’s hair

the cars splashing by

no one can pay the rent this month

no exceptions

but no one cares

they barely paid last month

and they’ve all forgotten.

It takes the old measurements of lengths

to know a kilometer is too far

It takes a walk on the night darkened beach

long hard looks from the bridge

the lifeguard glancing in the wrong direction

It takes rain, but no one cares.

It takes too much to become a person,

a real person

one whose body they will fish from the sea.

How one marginalizes distance,

the core of tragedy.

God, how one falls;

need to get one of those medication boxes

that old people use

to know which to take each day.

Time—

it’s a living anesthetic

numbing all these sojourns of suffering

It rains, but it’s never too far to go.