In the depths of sudden
depression; can’t even count
change. Mind is messed up.
In the depths of sudden
depression; can’t even count
change. Mind is messed up.
Squeak of the playground
swing sounds like a crying baby.
City life is hard.
Fanning my armpits
on the sidewalk. Old man says,
“Face it. You’re just hot.”
We move from stinky,
fishy ocean smell to fresh
flowers in seconds.