The Nostalgia of Loose River

There are many things floating in the Loose River: A dog with the News in his soft mouth, a refrigerator trailing a mustache of chocolate ice cream, the reference librarians of your childhood. The water here is sometimes gray and sometimes a bottle blue so old it hurts your heart. Time sinks to the bottom of the river, and the catfish keep it dusted with tails and fins. They look up through the eddy, whiskers smiling, and ask you to sing to them and make them forget.