Well, now I am definitely, most officially a poet…
Recently, I opted to take the bus to meet a friend in SE, who was visiting from San Francisco (interestingly, they were renting a section of the enormous faux Art Deco house built/previously owned by the founder of the famous, frozen, delicious veggie burger Gardenburger). 
It required a transfer. No biggie. I was used to those, from when I lived in San Francisco as well as Los Angeles (An aside: yes, I occasionally took public transportation in L.A. This fact seems to shock people. Guess what?  L.A. happens to have a great bus system and underground train. Considering the traffic and parking annoyances in that town, more people should explore this option). As I approached the covered waiting area on SE Belmont, a homeless man was talking to himself next to his shopping cart. Again, nothing all that unusual, for city dwellers. He glanced at me, I responded with one of those polite, half smiles. 

He continued to mumble to himself until he started yelling at the cars whizzing by, “Poet! Pooooeet! She’s a poet! I bet she talks in rhyme! Poet! Poet! Poet!”
Well, well, well. Weird. He wasn’t actually talking about me, of course, as he continued his dialogue with himself and the cars. But it was kinda creepy-cool, oddly-interesting, and only mildly-startling. 
#KeepPortlandWeird #Gardenburger #Poet!
#Portland #Poetland #publictransportation 

Always plenty of weirdness to go around in Portland, Oregon.
Always plenty of weirdness to go around in Portland, Oregon.