I got up late but it was okay
because I didn’t have anywhere to go
so in actuality, I didn’t get up late at all
who decides what’s late anyway?
it was like the crack of noon
stay up late writing and painting…
creating things nobody’s ever gonna see
but I want to anyway
I think they’re good, the hell with what anybody else thinks
after stumbling around the apartment for a while which is small;
you can only stumble so much
I got in the car and drove down to the diner
a little hole in the wall diner with character
a dirty door and uneven floors
a cup of coffee is cheap
cups cracked and chipped
coffee stains the cup instantly
because it was made some time yesterday
or last week or last month
I pick up the free newspaper that’s a week old that’s ok ‘cause I don’t read it
I just use it to hide my phone behind the paper because I want to look like an intellectual
not look like a dolt staring at a phone
just trying to get through the day the best I can
one dreadful moment at a time
