Afternoon Spat

The pen thought it romantic to be sliding
At the back of this fast food receipt
As the rains gush like green ink

I stare at my plaid jacket
Hanging at the back of the empty chair across me
And thought of its sheer arrogance
As it stares back

With a taunting voice
It asks why I am eating alone
In between classes
And impulsive bank withdrawals

With the quickness of a magician’s hand
I yank it by the neck
And decided that it needs
Some long overdue washing.

by A. G. Bawang

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