through the camphor
entwindled and non bifurcated
obdurate and obstreperous
like a little bit of shiny sumptin
pumpkin pie eyed morose
autodidacts
in wheelchair wars
swaying to the daisies
and waiting for a coffee
waiting patiently
in fact
and the streets are filled
with way too many people
but it's a really beautiful day
72 in the middle of January
I should really get the hell out of this city