Friday August 5, 2016 at Fellini’s
from a parking sign in Decatur
There have been a lot of bashings on my windows. A lot of forced entries. People on the streets look into me like a river, I reflect the things they want back at them. They use coat hangers and Baseball bats. Windows aren’t permanent or invincible. So I give in. When the blows are too much to bear, I give in. I guess the people who enter need what I have inside me more than I do or they wouldn’t try so hard to get in. I think about those old CDs and how often I listen to them anyway. How the GPS was good when I didn’t know where I was going but now that I don’t use it cause I know where I am I can give it up to the person who finds a cinder block to throw. Someone who goes out of their way to find a cinder block must need what I have inside me more than I do. Even when they’ve taken all they can find, rummaged between my seats to see if there is anything worth less than what they came here for, just in case they could use old pennies or stale chips, or lost pens, even after my windows are fixed up brand new and from the outside looking in I look as empty as I can be, I still get broken into: someone always trying to take what belongs to me.