i'm reading
his confessional memoir
here at
the Sunset parklet
i eat my
lunch today,
chicken and waffles,
an apple pie,
and a matcha latte,
i still remember
the way
he wrote
those love letters
before he
gave me
his last fictional prose
and his
final prose poetry

sunny afternoon
the serene blue sky, his coffee
the fresh autumn air

It's peaceful
autumnal Friday
i'm reading
the last line
of his autobiographical memoir,
i decided
to write a prose
not a poetry
but a prose
and i want
to give it him,
the owner
of my unfinished art,
the emperor of my tortured heart,
and the god of my unstable mind

© cfwang