Sunday, June 26, 2011


Here I am without tv
and writing comes so
naturally (Oh, without internet too)
just pencil & notebook,
adjacent to my table- two men
one high on heroin? Saw the
needle used, showed his friend
(grand scheme) one cop I guess, said
He'd have shared but bathrooms
locked and buzzes, my shirts sticky
with sweat almost forgot it's-- warm outside
in the climate controlled AC, it seems like
winter or some calm fall day in paintings;

that's a lie, it's balmy-- hot,
felicia'd say it's like Taiwan,
almost, cept less humid-- how that
could be true, I'd hate to know and
clack of walkie-talkie down the aisle, if
only my phone'd charge I could
get to the bus station, sweat and wait
for my driver-- throw my shit inside;

I'm going- south Philadelphia
hop the bus

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