Saturday, January 21, 2017


i see him almost every night when i walk home he is on the corner playing recorded reggae music full blast keeping time with his bongos he gives me the peace sign i give it back he gestures to his money hat set at his feet i pat my jeans and with a goofy shrug pull out my empty pockets

* * *

she called my name
                i sat in the
barber's chair
she looked at me
and sd you don't look
                 and you have
green eyes

i sd shakespeare reminds
us a rose by any other name
would smell as sweet

* * *

the book i am reading grows in pages but the words continue to disappear just as i am beginning to achieve their meanings


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