Next
to the Bible
in the Dollar Store
I pick up
Freedom, by Jonathan Franzen
tuck it
under my arm
and proceed to the cashier,
handing her a buck
she looks at me warmly
and says,
this is a good one, but
young man, have you read the Holy Bible?
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alone, reading quietly
I saw you today,
behind the page of a book you sat
hair tied back in a tight pony,
legs crossed in black leggings
corderoy red dress and bomber jacket.
But I knew better than to say hello.
We’ve been there before, and you
looked like you were doing just fine
sitting alone, reading quietly
commuting to work
or whatever it is you do now.
the polarity between real life and a college town.
I miss my former self.
A chatter-box of complaint.
Endless questions with premature answer.
Horny and mad.
Full of flowery language.
Undefined.
Chain smoking under the gun.
I miss my former self.
Like an old friend.
Like a past lover.
Like a finished book.
Like a sprained ankle.
Like a cavity.
Like film.
I miss my former self.
Arrogant.
Brooding.
Self-deluded.
Know-it-all.
Audacious.
Jerk.
I miss my former self.
Like turning 13.
Like watching Fox and Friends.
Like a one night stand.
Like romanticism.
Defined.
No longer smoking, still under the gun.
It’s the polarity between real life and a college town.
Words Of An Average White Male 