I like writing about thoughts
shaved and hoping interviewing for different futures wanting the gift to give liking my schedule liking the freedom of unemployment
By Fiachra O'6 years ago in Poets
I am waiting at the bus stop sitting in the circle of light beneath the lamppost writing on my phone I'm deeply locked in a thought
20 somethings in suits proud of their jobs proud of their incomes proud of their lunch choice salad, healthy, not like the old days
we got overnighted insight and now know that things are read before they're read and when we've been seen and when we've been viewed
I was peeling a clementine from one of those wooden crates and waiting for the train sitting next to a stranger in a hood
when I drive at night on empty open roads sunk comfortably in mountain ranges I'm always driving to the same place transported between yellow and white lines
the chair I sit across from is made of black leather and has two lines of stitching that look like a set of closed eyes on a frowning face
it was freezing and I was walking to work a man living on the street was all bundled up hey purple tie man! I said hey
his life was extinguished like a cigarette tossed in a toilet is a line I wrote a while back but have yet to find a place for
By Fiachra O'7 years ago in Poets
where'd you see it last? hearing that question feels like being handed a plastic pail while standing knee deep in water
my friend from college tried to get me out to Hawaii again he left the mainland after graduation and I haven’t said no
when time has passed unknowingly my kitchen reminds me it has Molly tells me where the bread is below where the plates used to be, before the ants