once i went to a baseball game and our team lost 8 - 4.
at least i think they lost.
we left at the top of the 8th because the town felt full beneath our feet.
my friends and i sank into the night.
we went to the river and watched the street lamps pour orange juice into the water,
watched it waver with the rise and fall of our voices, our laughter. someone got ****** and someone sang "lean on me" by bill withers. bill withers was divorced when he was thirty-five and then lost it all to the music, man.
standing still as violent criminals, we watch, and listen for a long time, we feel briefly for our friend who's parents are separated, but no one wants to linger on those parts of life.
someone (possibly the ****** someone) wishes he could sleep and never wake-up
and some of us ask him why.
he doesn't answer for a very long time, and when he does, his voice sounds like running water.
"we would never know we are sleeping, only that we never need to sleep."
we all just stay, and stare for a long time, until someone asks for another song,
but, no,
now I am tired, and I wish to go to sleep,
and in the morning, I can open up the fridge,
and have a large drink of orange juice,
right from the carton.