Nervously, Clemmy went to Randall’s at the end of Jude’s shift. She didn’t see him behind the bar and almost walked out. Then she saw him walking up the spoken word stage at the back of the shop.
This was strange because spoken word night wasn’t scheduled until the next night. Clemmy became worried.
As she walked towards the stage, the lights suddenly dimmed and Jude was spotlighted on the stage. She then looked down at her feet and noticed and trail of patchouli leaves leading to the stage.
“Thanks to Randall’s for giving me the opportunity to have my own, special open mic night,” said Jude.
“I dedicate this to Clemmy, my patchouli muse.”
“the lifestyle we choose is a burden at times, people are jealous and sometimes unkind
been using hashtags when they were still called pound signs
I rock a fedora regardless of the stares, I sport corduroy scarves without a freakin’ care
A learned revelation, which struck me to the core,
You once were an Emo, could I love you anymore?
So angry, I crushed our Public Enemy tape
I see you out there in the crowd, my mouth agape
I could never leave you, I love you too much,
My sweet patchouli muse.”
Several tears began to flow from Clemmy’s nervous eyes and dropped onto the patchouli leaves beneath her feet.
The hip-fatuation will go on.