Los Angeles city, now also LA the Ride,
Prevented him from the coffee for which he'd applied,
The woman asked the man if he lets anything slide,
"All the time, plus also I'm funny!" he lied.
He sits alone in a cafe charging his phone,
Reads the obtuse, and hears the unknown,
Neither working on muscle tone nor funny bone,
While the lady resides in a distant zip code.
Letting things slide precludes friction, for sure,
But I need the grip to tether myself to the world,
Their differences surely bespeak of a cure,
So he sits and waits for his points to mature.
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