I haven't written anything in ages, but the other night inspired me to freewrite something before I went to bed tonight, so without further adieu:

Downtown Orlando

he was at my car door,
right as I pulled in:
fresh out of prison,
a fight, I believe,
I wasn't really listening.
he asked me for $6.50.
I had $28, I get paid into two days,
so I gave him $8.
he blessed me in God's name,
I'm sure he meant it in good faith.

but in my hurry, I was already late,
to some underground rap concert,
to meet some girls I know,
and slightly distracted
by my five-fingered charity,
I locked my keys
in my car on Central Boulevard,
downtown Orlando,
last night.

I didn't realize it until
the bouncer searched me,
checked my ID,
drew black X's on my hands
like I was some straight-edge freak,
like I wasn't going to drink.
I removed my wallet,
my iPod and my phone,
but no keys, clearly.

walking back towards the parking lot,
I paused, soothed by a man playing saxophone,
probably for some money,
but I only had a twenty
so he didn't get any.
I'd learned my lesson about charity.

I got to the parking lot,
and in the ignition rested my keys.
I asked a parking meter cop for assistance,
he gave me the number to Pop-A-Lock.
they said it'd be thirty minutes.

after hanging up, I leaned against my car,
and browsed the Internet on my cell phone.
a man in a blue tank top, with severe overbite,
approached me, for some money, of course.
we chatted, I told him I only had a credit card,
and the change in my cup holder, if he'd like to wait with me.

he did, and an hour and a half passed,
we discussed life,
how if only I had brought a wire hanger with me,
we could get into my car.
"bring one next time, son."
and money, of course.
"do you think you've got five dollars in there?"
no probably thirty cents.
"could you go to an atm machine and get me ten bucks,
I waited with you."
no, I only have a credit card,
at one point, when he walked away to beg
a cute couple probably going clubbing
for some change, I hid the twenty in my back pocket.
he kept asking, so I opened my now-empty wallet,
and showed him nothing.

he walked away.
and I waited thirty more minutes
for the damn locksmith,
browsing the New York Times on my phone,
reading of foreign miseries.

it took him twenty seconds to open the car,
and three minutes to swipe my card,
and he was gone.

I didn't feel like walking back to the concert,
but those girls I know happened to be leaving,
so I caught a familiar face,
another person just like me.

they apologized for my luck,
but I said I was lucky to have actually had some decent company.
Some parts were iffy in terms of flow and some parts were downright forced poetics ("in the ignition rested my keys.") But overall the content, style, and voice came together beautifully.

In short, I was actually intrigued by piece and it was the first in a while that, in spite of it's length, I still wanted more.

Welcome back Corey
I really think that you should come back to this, fix some flow and line breaks, cut out some of the filler and streamline it a bit more, but still keep that personal, reflective tone.

This was really, really good Corey. I enjoyed thoroughly and would love to see it after it's been edited, because I think you have a decent first write here.
cool, thanks guys. pm me if you want me to look at something and I'll check it out. I don't really have time to just browse around anymore. thanks again
i liked it a lot as prose. to be honest, i think it'd be better without line breaks and without the pretence of verse poetry. its a nice prose poem that feels like its had line breaks forced upon it to its detriment.

but yeah. you can write. you dont need me to tell you that. i'm going to anyway though. the four fingered/five fingered thing was awesome. i liked reading this. i enjoyed reading this. it just didnt read like verse poetry to me.
my name is matt. you can call me that if you like.