bitchy

the nigttime crowd at the coffeeshop is okay, I guess
there's a cutie in there
he has a big beard and some kind of ponytail deal
a good face
an alright name
he's a 27 yr old aquarius
he laughed
I poured him an apricot cider
he used to have an oregon ID
and I'm s-ing my h, on the inside
but now he lives in idaho
and he's wearing a tiedye slugbug shirt
and a walletchain
on his plaid bro shorts

I wonder if he noticed how stupidly I'm dressed
in my comfort shoes,
and child's camouflage
probably not
he's not considering anything abt me
but that I can pour beer for him
and that I'm a nervegirl
he doesn't know I'm a nevergirl
and that his outfit's a dealbreaker
regardless of his hair
or his brain heart innards
because I'm highfashion judgething
whocareswhocares
MAKIN THAT $$$$$$

efflux

In the sentimental morning. Finding the sheaf, I know the fact against the facts. A mentality sent  forward, sentimentality pitching & yawing. If it make sense. Today I have a lower tolerance, the head more honest & on the neck. I like it, as if the versus are all laid out, my own nighttime verses retrospectively humorous. The morning this way that, why because. One or other. Through & through and out and done.