i’m not always unhappy

on his way into work
he stops, stares, freezes in the heat
picks up his phone and dials– says
“there are four red cars
in a straight line in front of me!”
past the doors he unwraps a cube of watermelon gum
and pops it into his mouth. the taste thrills him.
the bag which holds his lunch is a dull blue,
and he smiles;
he finds pleasure in such simple things.

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