GOOD MORNING, GOOD MORNING

i stopped at the 7-11 as is oft' i do-my routine.("routine" said samuel clemens is 1 way to ensure
doing things wrong over and over again) sitting indian-style on the concrete,reading the "usa today"-a 'boro and a joe. A car pulls in,parks in space directly in front-Hi-Beams RAGING.
The sun is up (mother-fu..)

((i know,i know a "study in france"-less accidents if u drive with lights on during sunlight hours))
(((Go move to france-pierre!))) Anyway,you are parked! Turn your lights off.
i reach for my sunglasses-place them over my reading glasses and stare in the direction of the driver's seat.he sits and sits-probably ear-glued to rush or beck.Probably stopping in here for tea. he exits suv-finally.. leaving me lit up like a christmas tree. ( doesn't he notice me?)
((am i mr. cellophane))

he goes in { and i think to myself... for the next few minutes i cannot believe in Him}

i met him at the coffee pot, in his face-on the spot. i "expletive deleviated" for i know-how long?
(i forgot) used every curse word i've got-or ever heard (think i made up a few new more)
then i turned, and i walked towards the door. i surmised the room. 9 or 10, including "help"
maybe more, i'm not quite sure, all-all staring at the floor. (you could have heard a feather drop)

then from behind-"Looks like someone got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning"

i turned- "LOOKS?! LOOKS?!

SOUNDS! SOUNDS! haven't you heard an f-ing word i said?
my bed is against the wall-i get out of the sameside every morning
mourning-mourning

M-O-U-R-N-I-N-G

i'll run in to an asshole like you

then
walked away

i packed up the news-swallowed the last of my joe-got on my bike and pedaled away slow-
tellin' myself-oh there you go...

PS: Again...