It does not help that these last few days I have been grading papers. The ever present composition resting along the curves of my desktop. Thomas Jefferson. Keystone pipeline. Racial intolerance. Same-sex marriage. Charlie Bird Parker. A sundry of diverse topics to select. Shifting my focus.
Like Eliot's stray cat, brushing across city streets and fallen fences between back alleys— Wandering across machineries humming to themselves. That ever present hum in the ears.