Translations of the Uncommon

It's no longer strange to see people striding around in the street, 
talking and gesturing, swearing and yelling as if into empty air.  

Little white buds tucked into each ear.

At crosswalks, no one looks left then right, right then left, anymore.

Is this what it means to believe something in the world holds you up?

The burden always falls on someone.

It may not be so remote to think an animal fixes
its shoulder to a column.

They become almost indistinguishable from each other.

How to prove absence of cohabitation after seven or more years?

Another volcano woke, deep in a land of unchanged snow.

We emerge from dreams in which lamplight spills like water 
and covers the hills.

The fish drink it up and overpopulate the rivers.

Someone gives them a new name and as if in unison,
they jump into the kitchen fire.

You mourn them and at the same time say grace.

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