I don't know Brandy Melville, but her tote bag cards are stacked. Or maybe it's some St George ads, and Brandy's on the back. Or maybe they're a lover's mark-- Brandy plus Melville, true amour. Left in the fence around a park to tell you of their favorite store.
Happy Birthday, so they say! You woke up! It's a brand new day! The sunlight glows through gauzy curtains. The day ahead's not set for certain! Good morning! Good morning! An expression of joy. The universe beckons! Get moving, cowboy! Your friends have been waiting! There's life to be done! Memory creating! Enjoying each one! When greeting, when leaving, in morning, in evening, not timely, just feelings 'bout seeing someone. Good morning. Good morning. Happy birthday.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nonet
9. A farmer works for years in the fields 8. by carthorse hooves and steel plough wheels 7. grinding ground to greater yields 6. from birth until she keels. 5. To market she wields 4. with "Farm Fresh" seals 3. veg unpeeled. 2. Who'll deal? 1. We'll.
Three coins catch the corner of my eye. Quarter, quarter, dime, how'd you get there little guys? Shining shyly from a pile of leaves, tucked into a crevice underneath a shady tree. Maybe someone put you there to grow? "Money grows on trees" is how I think the saying goes? Or is that backwards? I don't really know. Maybe they're a secret stash forgotten long ago? Or if the tree was trusted, it could hold them in escrow? I think they look like they've been here some time. And I say now you're mine, little quarters, little dime. I'll pocket you and walk with you and clean off all your grime. It's rescuing, not stealing. Surely that's no glaring crime. And when I go out roaming next I'm sure I'll see a sign. That all the time I spent with you was good use of my feet. Like at the coffee shop there is a tip jar by the line. And that's a better endpoint than the street.
I found a dirty dollar on the ground. I guess it's kinda fortunate that I was looking down. It's not enough to buy a coffee now, but every one I find just gets me closer to the line of lifting up the weight that bends my crown. A tiny bit, but still it counts somehow? This ragged bill, with little grace, unexpectedly misplaced, abandoned on its grimy face and sitting in this filthy space, until I find it, pick it, pocket, transport, carry, escort, walk it home to wash it, dry it, lay it... And one day soon I'll spend or pay it.