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December 17, 2019

Party at Jim's House

party at Jim’s house
the guy at work who sweeps up
he seems alright to me
find a floral couch to sit on or a dark corner to sit in
I could be painting or writing poems
or watching the shadows on the wall if I was at home
but I’m watching a lot of drunk people get drunker
a couple of my friends disappear to whereabouts unknown
i’m bored so I walk over to jack in the box across the street
get a burger, fries and a coke
I prefer to do my drinking at home alone sunshine 
I walk back to the house--it’s cold and I see my breath
it confirms that I’m alive, ALIVE!
it feels good but I wish I was going home
but my friends want to hang around for a while
I rode with them so I don’t have much of a choice
I meet a swedish girl whose as bored as I am
we talk on the couch and she writes poetry
she shows me some but honestly it isn’t very good
I of course dishonestly tell her it is good
but it’s nothing but tired cliches
but I give her a pass--english isn’t her first language
my swedish wouldn’t be very good or coherent
that would be readily apparent 
I couldn’t even write swedish cliches whatever they are
we talk a little more and she offers me a ride home
she drops me off like a cough drop
we leave and I smile when
I tell my friends the next day 
that I left with the blonde swedish girl somethin’ happened later