When spring arrives in Binghamton
mid-summer
the grad students flee and run
frisbees
in the street, shouting avoiding
CARS
after dining Thai Thai or Taste Of
vindaloo
ghosted, dessert ice cream
Flavorburst
at sunset, brick walls decorated with
bubble tea
to fulminate the digester,
inebriate
asylum abandoned but not
forgotten,
they circle the building and follow
the lights
back to the rhythm of the living
town
the carousel spinning still in walking
distance.
