august

you know what?

what?

it's a good day for poetry,

she said cheerfully

her feet dangling

wrapped in her usual dust-covered

red canvas flats

okay, i said,

shall we start with a theme

or just picking random words

out of thick air? 

(for the air is never thin in this city,

no,

it is heavy with carbon monoxide

and laden with bullshits)

how about a letter? she suggested

and i remember she told me once

about her mushroom-induced dream 

where letters danced

and came alive.

she said,

i'll start with h

i always like the letter h

it looks like a tiny chair

it's also pretty damn useful

useful how?

you can laugh and sigh with it

we always end our laughs

with sighs, and

for all i know nobody ever asked

any difference between the two.

how about you?

hmm,

i'll pick b.

why?

because i'd like to b.

she smiled

my turn, and I shall continue 

from you, o master,

i choose c

because i c what i c, 

and i don't c what i can't.

we can keep on doing this

with the rest of the alphabet.

and the world will end before we 

run out of all the letters 

that exist on this earth,

but 

do you ever wonder

why haven't we invented 

more letters yet?

do all the letters that we have now

really enough?

does it matter, i said,

do we really need more letters

just to recycle our

meaningless existence

over and over 

again?