Monday, December 17, 2012

Berkeley Winter Walking Poem

walking to Trader Joe's
cold legs
smell of Nation's
pot
and Indian food
mingle in the air
man standing too close to me at checkout
FUCK OFF
people driving too fast down residential streets
wonder if they will hit me
the smell of fires burning in fireplaces
I wish I had one at home
settle for a space heater
to warm up numb fingers
noses
and toes

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