  A STEP CLOSER TO STEPPING OFF Voices raised like hands above heads, like waves of fingers piano playing the air, accidental harmonies wanting an end or just wanting more. The world spins out of synch, faster and hotter, like water spills like steam rises, like warm mud or the soft underbellies of earth worms, making their way home while everybody goes about his business.
Drums beat to mark the passage; the young girls dance while the boys look on, ying and yang pushed to a crescendo, cutting through the cage, as if victory is nothing more than a barrier breached again and again. For whose benefit are these metaphors and significances and coincidences? For whose reward are these smiles and knowing winks and a nudge and a nudge and a nudge?
Wrong, wrong, wrong but will we know right when we see it? Bad, bad, bad but will we know good when we see it? The opposites define themselves into each other, merging and melting into the mud, and the earthworms go about their business, while everybody makes her way home. The shouting turns to singing, turns to whispers, turns to laughter, turns to silence and then a rest between notes. 
