NO ONE HEARS IT BREAK

This is Zeb. Not sure if I should be here but JR said I should. He held my umbrella for me and didn’t look at my face. That’s how I know I can trust him. I’m the one whose wings were clipped and the one who climbed the ladder to the lying trapeze.

I’m the one who falls too hard, too fast. I’m the man on the bench. I was overlooking JR on Summer Hill when he was with the Mystery Girl. I watched him reach up to the scarlet moon. I picked up the broken pieces from his battleground and left them at the broken fence for him.

There is a lagoon somewhere, I know, where the mosquitoes breed and the water lilies grow. That’s where I want to go and where I belong but until then I will be the elevator operator listening to Mr Como and slipping pieces of paper to JR. Here under my umbrella I watch the rain come down, washing the tears away down a winding river into the bay. The 2 people in the rowing boat tell me that maybe I’m not alone although I feel I am. The birds above are migrating to the lagoon and I envy them. I sit on this bench most days. The same kind of bench JR sat on with the lady in the Tea Cozy hat. He knows how it feels and still sits on benches too, sometimes overlooking what remains of the steelworks or he travels back in time and watches The Mersey drift by Eldon Street to the sound of ghost ships in the distance on the concrete oceans.

I am ZEBULON. I know you but I fear you will never know me. JR says it’s ok to visit you but I will always be under my umbrella. He says “Zeb, don’t say always!”

So………Maybe Someday.