Monday, April 13, 2009

Dear Stranger

Today, on Avenue Louise you stole a shiny bicycle.
The bicycle belonged to my boss
but was mine for the day.

Today I owe my boss 500 euro.
I make 500 a month.

It's going to take me a while to pay off your crime.

I hope you needed it.
I hope you raced with it to see your dying mother.
I can't think of a better excuse.

My condolences.


P.S. If you don't need it anymore, would you mine dropping it by the police station?
I might give them a call from time to time, just to check in on humanity.


Mr. Waterhouse 7:16 AM  

I ran into your Dad at the French class luncheon the other day and he said, "Kelsi wrote this thing on her blog about her bike being stolen and I thought of you when I read it."

I weasled the url out of Mikala.

I do hope he doesn't think I stole your bike.

This also reads like a William Carlos Williams poem.

Kelsi 5:33 AM  

An English teacher at a French luncheon?
C'est bizarre!

Hm. My Father's brain works in a funny way.

I love that William Carlos Williams.
When I was in Germany, I had his poems on post-it notes, all over my walls.

"This is just to say" is still my favorite.