The Buddhist : A Short Fiction As Prose

The Buddhist
on the underground
stopped and
handed me
a carnation
I looked up
and wanted to smile
but
his YOLO hat
caused me
consternation

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s