he liked the word particularly especially early in the morning when he’d have to pause between the ‘c’ and ‘u’ to make sure he got the ‘ularly’ part right. he generally used it referring to the weather. how cool it was that day. i think he thought it differentiated that day from others. it stood out. we were progressing to uniqueness. he sat alone and often spoke to himself. picking and looking through his mind he’d slowly pull out the best idea before waiting for a recipient and the words came mostly inane it was tragedy that had to claim the rest of the sunlight he held square in the palm of his hand and you know what? it was a girl that told him that once, a real live human, now, he’d remind the oxygen of this, a real live girl. the jock strapped sunday stunners would stop and poke, one in the group often spoke and the others nodded their numbed out nub of a head and shuffled on. he would look up on occasion. eyes searching back and forth like they had at the dinner table years ago when mom and dad still had to know how desperate he was to find something his own not this train station soundboard standing in line coward stopping and singing because no body would hear him it’s the oddity not the human being the spliced into religion sewer dwellers making potion who reign down without thought which criminal should get caught and store bought lenses to parade through life only catching glimpses of what he does every night it’s not rosey fellow and certainly not free it’s a particularly shitty place that he’d rather not be and like a lamp fixture on your night stand that sits in the day you walk past and believe it’s apart of what you pay for while getting from here to there and your important job that you leave and impair every synapse dwelling without care just stop once and pay some particular attention to a man who was tossed aside by everyone.