I wish I had some popcorn. Maybe I will eat some pretzels in lieu of it. But that would practically be like eating rice cakes instead of what you really fancy.
I like eating popcorn because you can eat a lot of it with little consequence. (Except when you bite down on a kernel). And the repetitiveness of it — popping one fluffy piece after the other — takes your mind off things.
I wonder how much popcorn you would have to eat to actually get full. A pound or two? At any rate, I don’t have any.
A customer is casting a spell at the Starbucks counter. Listen to her conjure. The barista is spellbound! The pastries, they glaze over…
the day can’t start unless i get up off this couch, and so i have the power. and so i pour another cup…
Fake bonsai and ferns
in aluminium buckets
Here students gather
by the bunch buried in books
altho voices r barely audible
over the club music songs
Her working in a sundress
Him in a cashmere shortsleeve
Them in their jeans arrayed
like ducks by the barista
And the woman next to me
her hair hung low over her eyes
she’s now studying a flavor wheel
What is the name of this song?
I’d like to take the interview
in this chapter and donate it
back to the trees by the drive-thru
her: there she blows the head of her mocha and talks prose over her millionth cigarette.
me: imagine 2 lattes — imagine. imagine them gone — one & then the other. imagine me home later on.
Q: What is it about that little bit of foam on your nose from your macchiato that activates my ❤ hormones?