Pennies from Heaven

 

At a donut shop near the sea

At a donut shop so close to the ocean

they sell surf wax

I’m picking out chocolate

Along side construction workers

And coffee hungry long distance commuters

 

I pick an old fashion compared-to-what-I-don’t-know

But the little happy-man clerk frowns at my money, he wants

Something smaller

Something less

Something not so large

Something more poetic

Like pocket change

Next time, he mumbles

I said, he mumbles these words: “next time”

 

The sun is rising and I am still high from dark room

half awake sex

It is a small throw-away-by-nine moment I cannot forget

A bubble gum wrapper moment stuck to my shoe in a parking lot

full of people who thought I was cool yesterday

When my poems didn’t have trite shinny endings like

 

There is no free lunch but occasionally

A donut sneaks through

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