I tried writing a poem about nature while at the park,
no cigarette breath, no cheap coffee,
no mental illness, no drunken babbles,
nothing.
It was just me sitting on a park bench
looking at the flowers, the trees,
the kids playing with their parents,
random birds and butterflies
and peace, so much peace
“Mom? Mom!” I heard a kid say,
I saw that he was pointing at me,
he must have been five years old or maybe less
“Mom, look at that man!”
“What is it with the man?” asked the mom
“His nose is all fucked up!” he replied
I stood up and walked away, wandered around the city
passing through bars with busted neon signs,
dead grey buildings with one graffiti scribbled over another,
prostitutes and deranged looking vagabonds,
then I stood in front of a parked car, and looked.
I took a good look at my reflection on the side window.
Yes, alright, my nose was fucked up.
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