May 24, 2004

(untitled)

barefoot.
warm cement.
cold air.
popsicle in hand, I step on to the grass.
wiggle toes.
sigh, a little closer to peace.

"WHAT THE FUCK DUMB BULLSHIT YOU TALKIN' BOUT YOU CRACK-ASS SLUT?!"
"I SAID, YOU BITCH, THAT YOU SLEPT WITH MY MAN!!"

peer over the hedge to watch two teens stomp by, swearing like sailors and taking turns out of a bottle in a bag, heading towards the elementary schoolgrounds next door.

shake head.
breathe.
consume popsicle.
look at the sky; lost among the cables and poles is venus.
another deep breath; wondering when I won't be here.

cold cement.
cold air.
popsicle eaten, I head inside.

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