Posted: June 21, 2011 in transliteration

You say it’s a good idea for me to go home.
Do me a favor and stop telling me what you think.
What the fuck do you know?
You think a book store and a library are the same thing.
No, they’re not the same.
Yes, baby. Same.

Not the same, and we won’t even discuss calling me “baby” again.

Even if it is a good idea for some reason,
even if I grant you that;
What about what I want?

I’m right, because it’s my life. You’re oblivious.
What’s wrong?

I watched the man in front of me scream at the clerk
in the express lane
for making the wrong change.
Eventually, the customer got his change.
I don’t know who was right.
It’s not exactly necessary for the cashier to think when making change.

I placed my items down.
Everything went smoothly until the end
when I was waiting for my change.

I saw the man insist on pouring french fries and birdseed together over his counter.
I saw it, but I know it didn’t happen.
I offered him a penny so that he could give me .45 instead of .44
but this just confused him more.

I started shouting.

I’m not going home.
This is my temporary home.
This is it.
You’re not invited in.


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