andthenfuckhesaid:
'I don't know what to do anymore,'
as the dollar dropped again-
again-
again-
fumbling fingers equal nervous tension,
I know, I know, I know; but please
don't ask me please don't ask me.

andthenfuckhesaid:
'you gotta help me, 'kay?'
and then it was my turn to
twitter in my seat,
tearing and
folding a pseudo sugar packet.
(he doesn't know what happened
last time
I doled out advice.)

andthenfuckhesaid:
'please?'
and I could have died
just like she did when she blew her grey matter against the
off
white
tile
(after listening to me;)
remember?
REMEMBER?
I'm no good when I'm nervous,
(no good at all,
oh no; she sure knows)
and so I threw up latte on the dollar,
the Equal packets.

andthenfuckhesaid:
'god!'
but then he composed himself,
calmed himself right down:
you okay? okay, it's okay.
okay? yeah right, my dear, yeahrightyeahright
and the benevolent man (he's only a boy) ushered me away.
chivalry is wasted on me, I know,
so I started crying and he held me.

then I laughed and he let me go.