A Fine Answer to ‘Whatcha doin?’
Published in
Apr 22, 2021
the world has a lot of shitty answers to greetings, but people in poems don’t.
Ulysses was pedaling toward me
with knives in his hands
and white bared
teeth
music thumped through his speaker,
wedged between his seat and
decorative pine
wreath
Whatcha doin’, Old School? Bleecker
Street blasted somethin’ grand
today; his aura
seethed
with swagger. Ulysses was his real
name, I just called him Man,
or Old School.
Breathe,
baby. Nothin’ in this world is free
‘cept moving feet and oxygen,
so I just walk and
breathe.
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