Title of Poem
is it a terrible thing that one of the most memorable moments in my life is standing on a streetcorner in a european capital city listening to some dude in a fedora play a bob dylan cover? i flipped him a two doller tip and felt like a good human being. wow. later in the same trip i was walking back to the hotel and this extremely busty and somewhat mannish scottish broad was lumbering out of a tavern into the street, and was begging me to help her find her umbrella. i still think about that and smile sometimes. i was supposed to go see the castles from Braveheart, but i overslept. that day i spent the afternoon smoking clove cigarettes (so alt) in an internet cafe while chatting with friends back home. when i returned home from this expedition, i felt it was wasted time. lost potential. years later, i wish for those days. but there shall be more;
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