small town.

where i live, you would never hear a woman on the street screaming obscenities about heartbreak, not on those quiet lamplit streets, no. but in secret, blue-eyed boys wear mascara, and girls with blue, red, and green in their hair sneak out to kiss in water. they sleep in beds on beaches, feeling old and drunk, and stay up all night trying to rhyme words with 'orange'. 80-year-old men with 36-year-old russian mail order brides sit in the bath tub, because where i live, money is no object but women are. in the sunlight, little girls in flourescent green boots carry sleeping puppies in backpacks, and people slap hands and sing. but at night, that is when some swim through the sky, jumping from the cable cars and prowling like tigers.