Choose Well

I am walking
on the sidewalk
in a blue button-up,
too-tight loafers on my feet,
behind a young girl
with cat ears on her head and
an orange balloon
tied to her overstuffed purse.

She bounces and
she waves and
she sings to the cars
driving up and
down Minnesota Avenue.

I stay ten steps behind
simply waiting,
watching,
for that balloon
to lift her up and
away.

Instead, she tries
to duck into a Subway,
but that balloon
catches on the door.

She chops at it with her hand,
then she looks me in the eye,
asks me what the fuck I’m staring at.

“I thought you might float away.”

“Some day I might,” she says and
then she walks inside
to get herself a sandwich
made just the way she likes.

Choose Well

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