they were walking up pacific
heading for columbus
looking in the windows
of the galleries.
linda says to tom
-those paintings are so nothing
and they probably think
they're awesome.
and all the while she's staring
at tom's skittering chihuahua feet
encased in hard black shoes
crafted to resemble
the carapace of beetles,
the laces wagging like antennas.
tom smiles and nods. -what?
he's dancing stutter steps
avoiding the expansion cracks
in the sidewalk. mumbles
-yeah, paintings......
tom and linda both watch
his beetle feet skip
over something dark
smeared on the pavement.
they dance up to doorway
of city lights bookstore
glancing at the volumes
in the window. tom says
-look at that stuff.
and linda goes -yeah
who would buy it?
tom says - painters?
they laugh and wait
at the corner, staring
at the marquee of the condor.
the traffic signal changes
to walk and they obey.
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