You were in Golden Gate Park yesterday morning. The way the early afternoon light struck your face as you talked to the pigeons... I gasped when I saw you. And it wasn't just because I was shocked at the fact that you had black trash bags on for shoes. I mean, that was part of it, but it was also how well-decorated your shopping cart was. Were those cat skulls I saw glued to the front? I wish I could have gotten a closer look.
You saw me, I think. Maybe the sun was in your eyes. Maybe you were blackout drunk from drinking from that jug of turpentine.
But you turned towards me and smiled that big semi-toothed smile at me. I hope you weren't just hallucinating that I was your abusive stepfather coming back from the dead to reconcile with you. Because I'm not.
I'm just a boy who's smitten with a homeless lady. At least I hope you're a lady (I've been wrong before).
I was wearing J.Crew chinos, loafers, and a green Polo. You threw a handful of acorns in my general direction. Why? Are you too shy for my attention?
I hope you make it to a public library soon so you can use the Internet and read this post. And so you can bathe in the restroom.