A feeble attempt to honor the writings of Richard Brautigan

I watch the girl in the laundromat

as she listens to my life's story

and tells me I'm a good man

as she stares at the ceiling

and blinks at the walls

she says she thinks I've done the best

I can


she looks me in the eyes

and swears she understands

Then she tells me her own story

sadder than mine

and I believe her.


The girl in the laundromat

begs for my phone number

and I give it to her

but I know she'll never call

she's half my age

and besides

she's high.


Copyright 2009 Pierre Ortega