the afternoon fizzles out
in a tiny trail of upward smoke
work problem unsolved
everybody else has gone
so i head home, too
stopping by brunswick st
in the hope of finding reading
or listening material
two bookshops later
i emtpy-handed wait
at the edge of a side street
as a bright pink
Mary Kay-branded car
turns off the main road
but she slows down
giving me quite a
stare
as she passes
and i wonder
what i did wrong
exactly?
when i pop out
of polyester
with a mark e smith
side-project
firmly in my pocket
the tram’s moments away
from leaving at the lights
my mind leaps
“it’s raining! hurry!”
but then
the invisible hand
on my shoulder
“it’s friday afternoon
what’s the hurry?”
and it rolls away
but there’s a lot of traffic
so i head north
momentarily purposefully
figuring maybe i’ll catch it
at the next stop
and if not
then maybe i’ll just stand
and watch the rain awhile.