Hats.

I can hear someone coming to my

left but, I can’t see them

better off, the sound they’re making

squi-plush squi-plush

it sounds like they just swam out of

a haunted lake and

are coming for me

just a girl in a boot

broke her foot.

A guy walks dangerously close to my

little bubble.

He’s wearing a fishing cap.

But you won’t catch many fish

with a hat like that.

A boy with a striped sweater.

Untied shoes.

He’s going to trip but

I’m indifferent.

My butt is sore

I’ve sat here just

a little

too

long.

A girl just looked at me like

oooh, I know what you’re writing about and

I don’t mind too much because

her coat looks like it was made of

old plastic bags

charged her one grand

told her it was designer.

This guy looks pretty normal.

But he’s lost.

It’s not too hard to lose yourself here

with all these people

 

and hallways that expand and disappear.

It used to be a

high school, they said.

I wonder where all those people are now

and what kinds of hats they wore.

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