i don't want to be friends with you
but i do want to let you know
that i like your shirt
it speaks to me, i get it
so in a sense i get a small part of you
not enough for more than a shared smile of acknowledgement
to let you know that you're not alone
that your taste is good
but i sit quietly instead, watch you walk past
afraid that my smile will be misunderstood
the smile - is it really the same in every language?
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the sun shines brightly cutting through the haze into tight corners of the post-atomic daze the concrete alley floor, with its broken flow...
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for fourteen years i wished my father dead at the age of eighteen i buried him it would take another six years to be rid of his physica...
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