afternoons at a coffee shop

the ramble of the people around me drowning out my ability to taste

but i adore the practice of observation

i like waving at babies

i read whitman out loud

i take breaks at thrift stores, walking between vendors with such intensity — i start to get light headed

i have had more caffeine than i have eaten food today

the two guys sitting in the garage were playing songs from my memory. i ask strangers for change until i find enough to give.

a lady that sounded like cigarette smoke told me i was quite a pretty little girl.

i park in trespassed spaces. i get out to walk instead.

i read my freeform prose over the crying of strollers.

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