i watch people when on mulberry,
there is always the little man
that hides in his
shack-type flower shop
extending from the deli
he keeps it closed when bristling winds
fight through the plastic flap that
tardy boyfriends peek through and plead for
orchids when late to their dinners
there's the tall slender man
with a faded stick and poke on his wrist
that takes turns
smoking and drinking his coffee
and hocks up phlegm and shoots out
like a spiderweb
the oblivious little girl with
***** blonde ringlets
steps on it with her new light up skechers
being preoccupied looking at puppies doing their business on
signs that say clean up after your dog

and then i boarded my bus to see the same thing unfold tomorrow.