The Park
Timothy Wojcik

In the park, I see a group of boys playing the new game. The first boy tags the second boy. The second boy runs circles around the third boy. The fourth boy colors a white sheet of paper dark blue. The fifth boy tells the sixth boy he’s done something horribly wrong. The seventh boy pleads with the first boy to not tag the second ever again. The eighth boy warns all the other boys that the game will be over soon, that it will all be over soon. The ninth boy tells the tenth boy about his dreams. The eleventh boy comes up to me, and tugs my sleeve. When I look down, he says You’re it, you’re the new machine.

Timothy Wojcik has lived in Brooklyn for a few short weeks. His work appeared previously in BlazeVOX11, Jellyfish Magazine 2.0, Spork Weekly Poetry, and the lovely Hendrix Aonian Magazine. His piece is part of a larger collection titled “The Missing Town.” He rarely blogs here and thinks “a little better” sounds nice.

photograph by Eleanore Leonne Barrett