I feel like writing bad poetry. Here's one for you now:
TO THE DUDE IN FRONT OF THE
FRIEND OF THE COURT BUILDING
Today, walking to my job carrying a mighty
Jimmy John’s submarine
or sammich (what have you)
I passed a guy on a cellphone.
He was just an average guy
in baggy jeans
with the rim of his boxershorts showing...
like a little secret saying “Hi there!”
I walked past you
and you watched me
and I heard you say into the phone
loud as a breaking plate
“Man, will you stop being an A-hole.”
You, tough man, said A-hole.
Then I passed and stood on the corner
and I could still hear your words
“I said A-hole, man. What do you mean
what’s an A-hole? It’s an ASS hole. You’re
being an ASS hole. I just didn’t want to say it
I smiled as I crossed the street,
scent of sammich wafting up.
I think you said A-hole for my benefit,
reminding me that perhaps somewhere out there
someone still thinks
am a tender flower.
Thank you, dude. Thank you.