Things that don't suck
Water and lemon, just water and lemon. Socks with a big-toe hole. Saturday nights alone with no plan. Numbers that draw smiles on doctors' faces. Her perfume. Her laughter. Her all. Number 7. Windy winter by the lagoon. Rainy naps with no alarm. Bus rides sitting. Poems by women. Rupi's poems. Gioconda's poems. This poem. Heavy secrets let loose. Bs As coffee shops. Chaotic book cases. Bulgy baby-carrying bellies. Hot mate. Small flowery balconies. Mint chewing gums. Unexpected hugs. Words that rhyme. Old trunks. Indoor swings. Colourful spectacles. Loose dresses. Unplanned gatherings. Films set in NY. Fresh flowers in a pot. Photographs. Taking photographs. Students' poems. Slam poets. Recycled furniture. Comfy shoes. Nard-smelling candles. Open-air markets. Hand-me-down clothes. Argentine rock. Grey sofas. Blue doors. Yellow windows. Chocolate bars. Stony tree-roofed streets. Noisy playgrounds. Memories. Dreams. One more day here.