around the strings at both ends effortlessly... the
frets are used to alter the course of their meaning,
and the sunken eyes in the head of the man leaning
against the wall shimmer as he recalls a distant
memory that had once given him pleasure... the
strings are loosened and tightened to change the
implications of the sounds and a cup sits beside
the artist, winking at each and every coin that is
dropped into its open belly... a constable walks
out of the alleyway that connects two major
roads together for pedestrians and as he hears
the music filtering through the air smiles at
the artist and asks for his license... the artist
picks up the cup and hands it to the man leaning
against the wall, packs up his guitar, and begins
to walk away... the constable calls out to him
but to no avail, as the artist boards a transit bus
and disappears... a crowd forms around the
constable and tightens into a smaller circle
until the constable cannot breathe, takes out
his pistol and fires it into his head... the artist
returns the next day and begins playing but
first leans the constable up against the wall.
8 July 2022
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