Quarter to 9 a.m.,
a man cracks open a tall can of Budweiser
He’s sitting outside a 7-11
I just watched him walk out the door and to
the shy side of a Redbox movie dispenser, lean
his body against the cool wall of the building and slide
down it with his back and his ass into a sit

He looks average,
aged, sized, minded
But I suppose he’s an alcoholic
or hey, maybe he just got off work like I did
He takes a big swig

I want to be like him
I want to give up too
I want a beer,
a cigarette,
something harder.
I stare at the man as I drive by in
my boyfriend’s baby blue Oldsmobile

Half past 10 a.m.,
I’m on a bench outside the public library
To the north and west of me are
the largest buildings in the city
Important people walk to and from them
Women who look younger than me carry briefcases on
both arms to and from the parking garages and lots
Their shoulders are back,
they’re looking like they have somewhere to be
Someone in the office bought Starbucks
warm, 16 ounce cappuccinos and latte’s await them
They wear barrettes in their hair
They have boyfriends who will never leave them
I want to be like them, too