bums pee on sourgrass
Farmer’s Market. Not the big one by the Guild-that-is-again-trying-to-tank-my-career. The little one by Hollywood and Cahuenga. As I get further away from the central market the crowd clears out. Finally there are just a few people sitting in doorways eating food they got from market vendors.
A woman on some steps has two kids with her. Little kids. Around three or four maybe. She is dressed pretty punk, with a pretty sparkley bracelet that glitters in sun light. She knows I like her bracelet. She smiles at me.
One of the little kids heads into a corner in the steps area and she says, Don’t sit there, come out of the corner. The kid says, Why? [Kids always say why.] She says, People pee in the corners.
I flash to being a little kid with my mom. We are outside a big warehouse. I spot some sourgrass and grab a stalk. [Sourgrass is this little plant that you can bite into and the stem gives you a funny sour taste. I do not know how I know that, I was not a country kid, but I did know that and grabbed the sourgrass.] My mother jumps. Really. A little spring into the air. Don’t eat that! I say [I am a kid so you see this coming right?] Why? She says, Bums pee on sourgrass.