of Fountainebleau Miami,
wearing a mask,
and an Outkast shirt,
clutching a SmartWater
and a book of poems.
What a beautiful day—
60ยบ and sunny—
to feel utterly repulsed by existence
like a little Kafka creation.
The future is the only thing
forgiving me,
sadly at sea,
having seamless dreams
of a different place.
Next time I am in LA,
I will buy an Eve Babitz book.
I am just a jeans
and black t-shirt
(with a Yankees or Magic hat)
type of boy;
I don't belong here.
I can't wait to never
drink Gatorade again,
and never
leave Brooklyn.