A Wire

I'm walking down the alley this morning, going to get my rocket fuel and I spy 3 little sparrows sitting up on the telephone wire. That Leonard Cohen lyric springs into my head, and I'm singing like a mad fool: "like a bird on a wire, like a drunk in a midnight choir, I have tried, in my way, to be free." A great surge of joy radiates throught my body. It's the first day of summer, it's a hot, humid, stormy day in Chicago. I am feeling waves of euphoria (this is before my latte). Not sure what's up. Sometimes sitting on a telephone wire, watching the scene is everything. I have tried to be free, and happy, and intelligent and all the things I think a cool guy should try to be and do. Then again, kicking down an alley, with no pain, no fear might just be that little glimmer of eternity that makes it all seem right.