“Is there anything better than the smell of new comic books wrapped in a brown paper bag.” – 7 year-old library user
I recall that, hence the bruise,
I guess I didn’t realize everything else falling entails.
April in National Poetry Month.
Thirty//Thirty 2014 04/30: Flipping
I journey back
through the past
“Where do I come up with this stuff?”
We know from implication that Hope springs eternal and Eternal springs hope
(in context and not exactness)
And while I can’t speak for a man’s breast, or what it’s like to rest, what it’s like to be papally blessed,
I know that Hope springs eternal from the bus terminal.
No, just a jam.
maybe a groove
— but definitely not a banger.
So, some friars walk into a Starbucks —
“Does this have caffeine in it?” One brother asks with a smile.
“Have you seen the light of Christ?” Another asks.
“..one of us is from California, and then we have New York, Florida, New Jersey…”
“I think the practices of the Buddhist monk are beautiful.” Nods another in conversation with a water colorist.
“I believe in coffee.”
You were the surfer in shorts concerned that the water was cold and I was the woman going to watch the sunset at Campus Point. You had a nice smile and thought I went to UCSB.
I hope you caught at least one wave before bailing.
The sunset was perfect.
Usually I don’t participate in writing challenges, but I don’t know – the 2017 poetry month challenge felt good for this year. Especially as a way for me to document my new times in California.