i must appear to be completely off my rocker. breath steaming, viscous clouding in front of me, wide tears blossoming in my mittens, combing train tracks and gravel for long lost bits of cigarettes while waiting for the northbound bus. dancing, beboping around to say anything on that pilfered ipod. head full of empty vibrations, both sides of my california headphones have speakers long past blown out and lyrics are hardly recognizable over a jumbled gurgle of bass and treble and snares moaning. but it's
whatever. i just feel like dancing, really. in the middle of a trash littered, grass rotting, snow sludging bus stop by the tracks, at the very beginning of february. i find an inch of camel light left behind and i think my baby green lighter is almost dead and out of fuel, but i spark that forgotten butt back to life in all it's blazing glory. deep drag through someone's cancer-filled, lip-touched filter and hold it in my lungs as long as possible until my head spins.
smoking randomly discarded halves always fills me with this
strange sense of community.
thank you to the lips that have breathed through my lungs before.
hope you don't got mouth herpes!
the southbound lady across the street is staring. i smile and i wave and i cup my mittened hands and shout
GOOD MORNING! flick twice smoked camel ash, tumbling to a floor of crushed taco bell wrappers and the smallest bits of gravel sucked into fresh spring mud.
by the way--i'm carrying my bus fare in a pill bottle.
(upon reflection, i am very gross sometimes.)
but i'll embrace it.
and laugh cause i think it's funny.
