Circle

So, today in a snotty haze I crossed town in my car which, overnight, had its left-side mirror busted out. It looks like some kid took a stick to it. I'd say this city is going to eat me alive. I wanted to find a new winter coat in a thrift store called Circle Thrift which is on Frankford Avenue in Fishtown. It was worth the trip. I got a coat for a dollar although my friend told me I looked pregnant wearing it and my housemate wondered if I had stollen it off his grandmother. It cost a dollar. How can I go wrong? It's like my brother says, "if you get shit on it, you can just chuck it." Right-o.

I have been obsessed with making anything fit into a poem. There was a piece of waxy paper blowing around on the sidewalk. I thought it surely could be a metaphor for something, couldn't it? I think these thoughts go hand in hand with the latest email I received from my friend Erin who lives in DC. In it, she refered to us as women who hate to hear men say shit like "You'd be prettier if you smiled more."