Dozen

Dozen

I fill my pockets with them
4 in my pants
6 in my jacket
(4 in side, 2 in front)
then I take 2 in my hat
I never go out without poems
I scatter them around as I make my rounds around the town
one to the bartender
one for the past lovers
one for the meditators
1 for the cab driver
1 for you
(whoever you may be that day)
1 for the ill
one for the darkness
1 for the lonely
1 for the lovers holding hands
2 for the jailed wrongfully
and I give the last one to wind
to take it wherever it is wanted.
I never go out without poems
a dozen of them.

Peyman
10.24.16
Washington, D.C.

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