The wind blew the paper down the asphalt street. There were no tubas and there were no drums, no no. No parade would come around the corner. The electric light changed from red to green. It changed on time. It changed on time. It changed on time. The Diffuse Parade The Diffuse Parade The Diffuse Parade The doors opened for the wind. The leaves blew inside where it was leaking cold. The brick was dark where the men used to lean and talk; once watching a fire. The fence held the plastic bags. They all shook at the same time. They all shook at the same time. They all shook at the same time. The Diffuse Parade The Diffuse Parade The Diffuse Parade The wind was cold in his ribs. It tasted of mercury metal. His lungs were ready for a crowd but there was no crowd. His teeth clicked together—chattering in the cold. The parade was still not coming. It was broken up and scattered. All released at the same time. All released at the same time. All released at the same time. The Diffuse Parade The Diffuse Parade The Diffuse Parade It was the blue plastic tarp flapping against the wood in the wind. It was the blown and torn vulcanized rubber tire on the road. We did not wait in rain for the horns anymore. We stood in it, on it at the same time. We stood in it, on it at the same time. We stood in it, on it at the same time. The Diffuse Parade The Diffuse Parade The Diffuse Parade
