Joe Battaglia
Then there was the one night where…

I
I
I
I
Took
The time
To examine
A masterpiece,
A liquid artistic mosaic,
Fluids from every source.
A raindrop must feel so trapped;
Endless decent from a cloud to
The ground, fuel passes through tubes
And out crevices, leaks through
Tributaries. Travels via parking lot
River. Even saliva, escapes the
Mouthpiece, forced to touchdown
In a watery culture. Footsteps
Push through, wet soles get
The last laugh. Ripples in a
Puddle soon to be
Evaporated.