| *loolaville _poetry | |||||
| Quarter in the Fountain I tend to run across relationships like quarters in the couch. Recently I found one and kept it; carried it in that little pocket inside the pocket of my blue jeans, and held it in my hand now and then to feel it's warmth. I saved it - maybe because it had a statehood backing - and waited to use it for something cool. After all the waiting, nothing to special came along so instead of using it toward that last pack of cigarettes, I tossed it in a fountain. I tend to get involved with people who end up tossing me aside like that quarter. But a fountain with thousands of coins in the warm sun is a brand new world. |
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