Occupy Poetry


BY R.Vidacs

There was something wrong in his eyes. Something a normal god fearing person
would pick up in an instant. Yet there was a grain of nonchalance too, some-
thing that could mislead a person into patronising him. Like there and then at the
moment he reached for a cigarette - Uhmm . . he almost opened his mouth.
- What, don’t smoke in the car? He lit up without any hesitation between a broad
smile and a curl of smoke ready to argue his point. - Do you fart? - Whaat ?
Didn't know what hit him more: the intrusion itself, the smoke or the straight
question. - Do you shit in the car? He gave him no time to respond. - Of course
you don’t. There was something crazy about this guy and he was sure of it by now.
- It's not that am going to ash inside your car either. He let it out as he brushed off
his smoke outside the window of the car.



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