rock on white wicker chairs
and sit on green paisley cushions
and chain smoke
because it’s a crutch or
a good way to pass time
or to remember to breathe
and they write in little black notebooks
and they scribble and scratch
like its god damn poetry.
I like this…very simple with complex undertones…or so I think.
thank you Akeith! would love to hear more about what you think (hint hint) — same goes for everyone out there! best to you – jody