23.04.05 - 12:56 p.m.

we met a boy outside of chop suey where nobody would stand
closer than 30 feet from their nearest neighbor
except him and us and he had that clean and sweetness
about him, the unpretentious cardigan and freshly
washed hair and fiddled with his glasses
as he stood, not avoiding looking at us so
i talked to him, said that maybe everyone wished
the line was longer so they stood further apart and he
laughed and had recently moved to seattle from cincinatti
where people would never talk to you on line he said and
we thought of how funny it would be if charles d'ambrosio
who he came to see
was looking out from inside through the tinted glass to find
this boy whose name i never asked play-acting a frantic
speedread, checking his watch and running his finger over each word.

some sort of tragedy pervert
previous next

the project museum

the revolution will be catalogued

this american life

the library of congress

i used to believe







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