Screams of pain filter through the screen
but I realize they only sound like that
because the rainbow-water of the sprinkler
was colder than expected.
92 degrees, hazy, dragonflies and bumblebees on the lawn.
9-years-old, on the floor, watching "Salute Your Shorts."
Other kids are outside
but I can go out tomorrow.

Screams of horns filter through the glass
while the phone rings - it's Mike
and we're going to dinner tomorrow night.
92 degrees, hazy, no grass or water in sight
except for in the Monet prints on my white walls.
32-years-old, on the 17th story, drudging through papers.
I should have gone out yesterday.

__________________
"They think I'm crazy, but I know better. It is not I who am crazy... it is I who am MAD!"