Indigestible words

Spring storms send debris swirling down the curbside to the sewer grates. As if this city is so dirty they have to come in full force. Rolling through one after another. Giving immovable cars the only bath they get. Rinsing off the construction dust, matting pamphlets to the windshield, melting notes down the driver side door. The words cling to the handle desperate to be important as the fiber that conveys them disintegrate towards the drains.
Still the rain comes, disillusioning and confusing
Advertisements, notes and love letters
"Find the one-lose the weight-call me-The asshole who can't park"
running down the gutter to the sewers till swallowing lies, accusations, unknown loves and confessions, back in my apartment, the toilet belches with indigestion.