Fried Chicken Escape

 

Auto door closes. I had to go! I put the kitty litter in a bag, then in a box, and then another bag still. It should travel well…

I got a cool greeting and a “I’ll be right back”… 

No where to go.

Would it have been different within the worlds of comradery?

All would’ve had to been rolled right back…

To the beginning.

Sleeping on the floor, with everything I could grab… in a plastic bag…

The igloos embrace was more palatable.

Out of the frying pan 

As the saying goes 

Tick tock 

Big Ben rings…

Where did they go? 

Where are they?

Two months, bleeds into a shopping trip…

I think I know why you came back with only a bucket.

I left the same day.

Cards on the table.

Babe

Only names names.

I see you, and now you know what I saw.

Even if memory never serves you after this point.

History was written on that day.

And then, and again. 

None of us knew how we fit in.

To your Fried Chicken Escape.

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It’s not like I woke up this morning, thinking, let’s write about something painful… I think I was 27…