intelligence still booting

up and walking out
morning early
gravel eyed
intelligence still booting

I reach the pavement
by a girlchild
walkman dumb
step aside nerves

bins are displayed
mine's not
I turn back
to promenade my trash

and she looks at me
her arm
pointing across the road
at someone else's car

I say "that's not mine"
she says "wot?"
I say "that's not my car"
she says "I didn't say it was"

and a bus stops

image: poem

2K3:6

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