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I haven't written anything in the longest time.
There was a time when words would
delicately shudder from the tip of my pen.
But now the spasms are few and far between.
We threw our pennies into neon wishing wells;
they lined the bottom like shell-speckled toes.
A year later, the pennies are bloated.
Not a drop of copper-laced water remains.
Now imagine my words, caught between layers of coin and filth.
They're suffocating, but maybe when I fish out those greedy wishes, they will emerge- dripping with wonder and expelling all fear.
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867.48
I suppose numbers have always haunted me, however inconspicuously.
Yet none have sliced so deeply.
So very,
very...
peculiar.
I have been wondering what it would be like to be blind.
Could it be a blessing?
To have an excuse to touch, to feel.
Will I ever know?
Not I, said the...
I will always be here, crowing softly where the sky barely grazes the trees.
You are beautiful, you know.
Smiles echo sadness lingering on a breathless sigh.
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The days are getting longer.
What am I to do with all this foolish pride?
The sun collapses on my anger.
Oh, but he sang to me.
You are unlike
simile,
falling,
metaphor.
You just are.
And I marvel.
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I was walking along Thayer St.
It was raining. Hard.
I was freezing.
I stepped in a puddle.
My shoe became an ocean.
"Damn," I thought.
Step, step.
Squeak.
I kept walking until I arrived at the street I needed to turn down.
I stepped under the awning of the bank and waited.
A Brown University building was across the way.
A man walked out.
His umbrella refused to open.
"Damn," he muttered.
The people were beautiful.
Avoiding puddles as if they held something contagious.
A young woman with purple hair and yellow boots deliberately jumped right into the middle of one.
She giggled.
I smiled in a very inconspicuous manner.
I am the perfect wallflower.
My hair was plastered to my face.
I was shivering.
I sensed someone coming near.
I peered through my lashes and
saw a young man coming up the steps.
He was concentrating on climbing,
but glanced up as he finished the fourth and final step.
He looked at me and hurried off.
A few moments later, the man came back.
He looked me straight in the eye.
"Hi," he said.
I smiled. "Hey."
He began searching my eyes for something.
His movements were frantic.
"Are you going anywhere?"
I laughed.
"Does it appear that way?"
He smiled.
He seemed relieved.
"No, I suppose not."
"You looked like you were going somewhere."
"Yeah," he said. "I was."
I nodded and studied my shoes.
He cleared his throat and said,
"That's the thing about destinations, I guess. They usually change."
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A woman walked in.
She was African-American, but very light.
I said hello.
She looked at me and smiled.
"That's a mighty nice name ya got there."
I smiled. "Thank you."
"You're beautiful, too."
I blushed and thanked her.
"See, I got problems and I can still give a compliment! I'm doing okay."
I rang up some items.
"I got lots of problems. Lots of things goin' on."
"Your total is $18.02."
She handed me a twenty.
"I got the two cents."
I nodded.
"I SWEAR I got the two cents. You see, my daughter. She got a lot of problems. I got the two cents. I swear I got it. I got it. She got a lot of problems."
My heart was slowly breaking.
She was shaking.
"I don't got the two cents. Do ya got two cents?"
"Yeah," I said softly. "I have the two cents."
She walked away humming a song I don't think I'll ever obtain.
The next customer shook his head and called her nuts.
"No," I said to myself.
Sometimes we just need a little change.
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