At Any Given Hour
Inspired by Cesaria Evora
At any given hour men are arguing about the path of a ball.
In, out, goal no goal, each has his opinion.
One says “Let’s get back to work”
At any given hour women are talking about their bodies.
Blood, no blood, sick not sick, each has her own opinion.
One says “It is what it is – it will be what it will be”
And soon it is evening.
They come together over food.
Some talk and some are silent.
A few are laughing.
A man beats his wife because of money.
A man sings a lullaby to a crying baby while his wife sleeps.
Across town a woman slaps a child because of lying.
A woman changes the bandages from her husband’s surgery saying ‘Poor thing.’
A few are laughing to themselves.
Water flows down drains, carrying with it secrets, clues, revelations, remnants.
Something creaks, something crashes, but mostly there is the hum of machines and cars and silence.
The great rush of lovers is felt tonight, the wind roaming the streets to give flight to their hair, the young people are behind bushes in the parks, jeans muddied, locked in every embrace imaginable.
The aide from the hospital lifts the spoon to her lips and she tastes.
Yes. Mint chocolate chip.
