A Water Can Sprays a Flowerbed City

 by John Gosslee

outside of the train station

it rains like god is ringing out a towel

the ticket holders bloom umbrellas  

drops of water splash into little corsages

I inhale and float up as if a balloon   

mismatched flowers pivot on their stems to see

my empty boots fill with cold soup as I ascend

someone’s jacket snickers against my pants

a woman yells, you can’t do that!

she lunges to pluck me down and catches air