loose pivot, loose hinge

Specialists tell I should have crossed my present chart 7 years back. but i'm right here with the filament lume on my shoulders in the devastation of a room this evening, recovering from yesterdays spoilt dinner and typing with heavy hands without a smile. Theres no difference if my view out the window was a void or a crush, but maybe we need spaces for patterns or plain agreement. Then there are the books and clotted memories. Yesterday I saw an old watchman cross the road by commercials. He was living his dream of being a policeman with the uniform and the charge - he looked at noone. He was returning home with flair. The couple on infantry road for whom it was clearly all over; moving away as they walked together, corroding and killing with every step - they should have left right away. The dogs I wished wouldnt break out into frantic instructive copulation as they usually do when I'm watching and passing by. They dont. The forlon dog. The sexy policeman. The pyt he watched a second longer. My aggravating hairlline fracture. Sweat compacting in the airpits. Watching, wanting faces.
Bus 119. Standing till home and a hollow.