dripping in pellucid beads
in the same metronomic
speed. Like dew on
a silver blade or sweat sticking

to your nape when there is no
shade. Hanging off
the end in a bulbous blob
like that of a soupy sob. The long

dull thud of the kerplunk,
like hitting a wall when
you are drunk sits heavy
like a stone. Pearls of liquid

drone. Like rain they pitter-
patter. And when they fall
they scatter like mice back in
their hole, black as a lump of coal.