They stand staring
upper middle-aged in water shoes and cropped sweatpants.
Their faces red from sun and exertion as they climbed pale chicken legs up over the levee.
Doe-eyed from a three day tour, their heads swim with Spanish architecture, swollen streets puckered with potholes,
the lingering sounds of an unseen horn playing
wafting through the marijuana infused air
as they now take in the sight
of the waters collecting
past the strangled brush
to tell the others
about the city
which is fine to visit
but how can you really live there?
They take pictures and smile
stepping slowly back down to the street.
Perhaps a cocktail to go as they watch an automobile collide with a streetcar.
An elderly man stumbles out and vomits on the neutral ground.