words less spoken

Carol was trying
to find a few cigarette butts to gut out to make a whole cigarette although she
wasn’t a smoker she’d sell them to her neighbors in the tent next door for
fifty cents with her thin arms and micro wrists she’d toil for a couple of
weeks to raise enough money to go to the flower store on Los Angeles street and
buy her parole officer a single rose or sometimes two or three red carnations i
had met Carol while i was in high school at that time she was in her thirties
she befriended me at People’s Store asking me about my perfume on account that she
liked it i was a young punk and i told her that i wasn’t wearing any and walked
off Carol stood there looking confused but the guilt gnawed at my chest and i could
feel my ears turning…

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1 reply

  1. billy
    a young punk
    me i smelled
    the smoke
    a push
    and a toke
    and that
    the buoys addicted
    ha ha ha!

    Liked by 1 person

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