(A Poem for The Broke) Mundane Loafers, the Face Cringes to Squeeze Tears Out

Wearing my loafers, scarf down to the knees. All black. Obviously feeling good – obviously looking good. I just finished a good and progressive meeting. 4 PM on a groovy Saturday – restaurants are filled with girls on fleek. Hello girls, can I come join you? But there is only money to get home; therefore it’s the only way I can head. Read more