WHEN YOU FINALLY LEARN HOW TO LIVE A LIFE, PLEASE LET ME KNOW

This is just
to say

I ate the last
of the compost
cookie that
was in my
coat pocket.
It was sweet,
maybe too sweet,
and stale,
not too stale.
I was hungry,
without will,
but I had
sense enough
not to pay
eight dollars
for a bag of
hotel room
potato chips.
Anywho, it's
gone, the
last remnant of
that compost
cookie of
New York City.

Ace Hotel W. 29th Street, New York, New York