Don’t beg me to enlighten and entertain that intellectual old man who was your professor, or may well have been on his bike pedal/ peddling/ mingling on your stoop charming you to listen to his worldly knowledge and the reading of his little book on astrology and moons. He once gave you a reading typed on rice paper cut, bound and glued, a tiny thumb-book gifted— as clever as his bifocal laughter and 3 speed peddler/ tooting his horn for your glamor and youth. Who made him the boss of you?
©Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Photo by Brett Sayles
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