Aluminum Tats on the Hard Hot Street

Tat-TAT.

Tat-TAT.

Tat-TAT.

Steady metallic.

Tat.

Tat-TAT.

Heavy stillness. Common black birds on a telephone wire.

Tat.

TAT-TAT.

To the old lady standing in her kitchen one forgotten summer morning long ago, it was simply nothing. She had heard it all before, to the point where it was second nature, and second nature was everywhere. She walked through it’s…