Walking through Barnes & Noble
there were teenagers everywhere,
laughing,
they’re always laughing;
marking their territory
in packs of three and four,
between rows of literature/poetry,
and non-fiction drama.
I picked my selections, and
squeezed by a group of three giggling girls,
when one jiggled her earrings,
stacked like silver CD’s,
in my direction,
“Bukowski! I love his poems!”
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
5 comments:
Do you realize how many bookstore poems both you and I write?
Pat, the image of giggling girls and Bukowski creates the strangest discomfort in my head. :-) I enjoy the way the poem creates "packs" of the teens; that is exactly what I think when I see them in the mall.
I think I was there --
Must be a favorite haunt of ours. Thanks Chrisitine and Andrew. Oh, Christine with Bukowski it should be a strange discomfort!
Makes me laugh, reminds me of my daughter......especially the earrings.... :) She is always saying, this or that about what things must have been like when I was a teenager, I have to remind her, I was raised by wolves......
Post a Comment