Ice Cream In UPTOWN @SebastianJoes

At Sebastian Joe’s-omnipresent red walls, sweet-toothed smiles, leather furnishings, and tattered posters.

 

Uptown has never tasted better. 

 

Local papers mixed propaganda, spread-out reading material in innocuous fashion, fast-forwarding, forecasting a coming truth-I swear to GOD, this is proof.

 

Local hipsters and self-proclaimed art critics gathered round with passion. 

 

Old man Grab your Cannon!

 

-This sort of ART MUST BE DOCUMENTED FOR HISTORIC PURPOSES.

 

The ancient way hear tell of things-candies and treats, as if we got them now as no reward at all.

 

My grandfather always spoke of the funnies.

Told me stories until I became bored.

 

Ice cream and cold hands. 

 

Conversations and clouds; there is white in between blue skies.

We make promises on whatever’s on our mind-just killing time.

 

The ambrosia melts in a moment, but it tastes just as well-don’t it?

 

We travel bags and bikes.

Hassle at a stoplight.

 

And the traffic flows slowly down Hennepin Avenue, while I watch as the seconds on my watch tick by.

 

I think of the past as people slurp, lick, swallow, and enjoy anything on cone or stick.

 

No plans, I sit at a table with a crumpled napkin, an empty cup, and a white plastic spoon.

Just taking in an afternoon.

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