Yesterday in his pocket
he had
friends, Neil Diamond concert footage, the constitution, nude women, pac man, conspiracy theories, the stock market,
and streaming Rush Limbaugh.
His pocket was never boring.
Today in his pocket he has a tube of chap stick, a set of keys, and a wallet.
Next to him
my dog sniffs and squats.
By the time the dog finishes its crap
the man’s lips are moist,
and he has Iooked at the one photo of his family
and one photo of his cat.
He tries to engage me in conversation
about the shapes in the clouds
and the weather.
I motion to the Angry Bird game on the iPhone in my hand.
He starts petting and mumbling to my dog.
I wonder if he’s insane, stoned or retarded.
All this makes me nervous.
Then I remember
this is what people with boring pockets
do.
Earthworm Envy 