Head Up

Pile of PooMoe’s mother taught him to walk confidently; head up, eyes forward. Moe learned that confidence meant occasionally stepping in dog shit.

The local pet store has a boarded up window. He pictures a great escape.

On the opposite sidewalk he sees a man that look likes old money. Blue blazer, scarf tucked into his shirt, and tasselled loafers. He studies the clouds as if trying to divine his future while his Yorkshire bitch shits on the sidewalk.

If you want to know people like those you read about in stories, become a writer.

Some philosopher types argue against using stereotypes. Moe finds them useful for remembering which of Kant or Hobbes had the harsh view of humanity.

There’s a singer on stage now. A self-styled musician in the audience tries to improvise harmonies. It reminds Moe of Yoko’s performances.

Moe finds it funny that people with low self-esteem always look down yet still step in it. They also spend more time wiping it off.

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