Used to go to open microphone nights to watch boys play acoustic guitars. Although something didn't seem quite right watching folks sing folk songs about text messages, emails and socially networked screw ups. Some things need to stay timeless not timely. Heartache and heartbreak should be screamed and stabbed and cried aloud not capitalized with lots of exclamation points and deleted friends. Nevertheless he cracked open the last Tab and took to the streets. Hands chapped just like his fathers hands. Father lived to be 53 so he figured half his life was already over. "Time to get moving", he figured. "The cars hiss by my window like the waves down on the beach." Rubber and rain. Lights are on. Cats are screaming chasing each other through alleys and whatnot. Doing what cats do until morning. There were these two squirrels, he'd named them Jack and Jill. Every morning they'd chase each other through the branches like treetop locomotives switching tracks at breakneck speed. Like blood through nervous system vessels. Like your brain sends a signal to your hand in an instant. They never missed a beat; never missed a step. Haven't seen Jack around lately. Just Jill. She seems confused and lonely. No one to chase around or run from. Must be lonely high up in them treetops. Still she never misses a step. Little angel in the sky. Simple squirrel life. Can't be all that hard. I wonder if she thinks of Jack often. Or maybe its some sort of promiscuous call of the wild thing and now she's all pregnant and Jack's off to another conquest. Who knows. Alls I know is it sure must get lonely and cold up in them dreys all winter. And while I read most squirrels are not monogamous some do find the same partner year after year. Jill is such a hopeless romantic. Fixing that drey just right and timing Jack's return. That's my girl.