A crush on the Barista.

A tale as old as coffee shops themselves, if I’m not mistaken.

An old and tired one frankly.

This is her place of business.

I mean no disrespect.

I keep my mouth shut, for fear of other people’s bullshit,

derailing my own.

Latte art and conversation with strangers.

Oh, to have that kind of confidence.

Oh, to be that beautiful.

Couldn’...

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While waiting for the bus to school,
I came upon the weighty problem
Of what to do with my hands and feet.

Unused to such quandries and puzzles,
I first thought the answer to be
Simple, like hands in pockets, and stand on feet.

But unbidden, there came to my mind
A picture of myself, standing on my feet.
A plump girl, with her hands in her pockets.

At last I could stand it no longer
...

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I wish to be heard.  To bridge the divide

auto-ostracising me from common

experience.  Common understanding,

inclusion and collusion in present’s

moment.  I think ahead what response my

actions engender.  My words carefully

controlled, observation

based: precision vocabulary I

once envied – recycled at will,

effect calculated.  For reflection

on me, upping my status, ...

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