On a day like this

On a day like this
when
mother leaves
classmates graduate
cigarettes run out

I head out
get another pack
and puff

Smoke rises
wispy, pale against drizzly gray
and street
brick, cement, steel
maroon, beige, aquamarine

I feel low, I think

But how does one notice
if this mood is different at all
from the usual

One more puff
because
impressions are
hazy
from an already eventful morning

Thank god
for coffee shops
I enjoy
a caffeinated imagination
and smells of
wood
local or imported beans
hopefully
marked
with fair-trade stickers

All this
mumbling-
there is a point:

Gone through hell
still, I

smoke
corner coffee shop

Pen
down rhymes

as if
there is no tomorrow

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3 thoughts on “On a day like this

  1. Thank god for coffee shops– indeed!

    but how does one notice
    if this mood is different at all
    from the usual

    This is deliciously self-aware, without becoming maudlin. This, as I say, is how the poets do it. Has a young Gerald Stern feel to it. I’m glad I read it over coffee this morning. Going out on the balcony now for a smoke, and to think.

    Good job.

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