in La Candelaria
a district of Bogota
I sit in the shade
of an empty bar
listen to the clock on the wall
‘tick, tick, tick’
time dripping by
out the leaky faucet of life
I watch a shadow
move across the street
pushed by an afternoon breeze
and finally I lean to one side
of my barstool
let it out
look around
and wonder just how far
it travels
the sound of a solemn
gentle fart
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