A Dropped Poem

by agoodnow

I woke up at 4:50 this morning and could not fall back asleep.  So I got up and I did some editing to my manuscript.  Adding here, tightening there.  I do enjoy reading my work when I have taken the time to tidy it up a bit.   It always feels like someone else wrote the words.  I’m not sure why that is, but it is a unparalelled feeling.

So my morning started off well.

I then walked to the subway after dropping my laundry off at the cleaners. (Could you imagine washing clothes all day?  I could not imagine the filth those guys must see.  I know for a fact that I have dropped off some things where they must have thought, we should be charging him extra for this.  Point being, I think they sit around and smoke pot all day long while doing laundry.  I suppose you need to cope somehow.)

As I was walking to the subway I saw a small folded up piece of paper, much like one that I could have in my pocket at any given moment (though I have recently started carrying a binder with me to keep my writing  consolidated in one place. Thanks SR.  I have far too many random, single loose leaf pages occupying my apartment.   It was pointed out to me upon describing my apartment to someone that it sounded like an apartment a criminally insane person would occupy.   Point taken.)

I looked at the page on the ground and I started thinking and my mind began to wander.  This is what I came up with:

A school age child had to write a poem for his English class.  About anything.   The topic he has selected is a New York City sidewalk.  Here is what he writes on the page that now occupies the pedestrian strip on 68th St.

The sidewalk

Covered in gum

In what that dog just did

I would not stick my thumb

Crowded

Dirty

People in lines

Drones to work

Avoiding bread lines

A cell phone

Blackberry

An Iphone

A book

People’s own world’s as they carve out their nook

It’s funny to see

The wandering tourist

Stop bumping into me

Or I’ll show you floorist

The runner

The walker

The beautiful girl

The homeless

The chauffeur

Boy, dog walking must suck

Avoiding collisions

I get to school for the day

To hand in this poem

So I can get an A.

That is what was written on that piece of paper.  At least that’s what I think was written.