One stands and asks what one knows, what one knows is limited by what one doesn't know. One walks away defending one's once-was spirit. One right clicks off a page to a better vision of one's daughter's toothless mouth. One sips a glass of water and chews cashews. One passes by and asks one to come downstairs in less than a minute. One follows, more unknowing. One's dry mouth follows one's rapid heart tick. One lumbers downstairs toward the certainty of confrontation. One feels blood flush cheeks. One closes a door quietly. One sits across from one other. One's lip trembles under bright lipstick. One breaks the silence. Is everything ok? One says sorry and shakes no. It's not ok. One thinks it's mostly Ok even if one cannot grasp the Ok. Ok is mild. Ok is just fine. Ok is better than not Ok. One thinks one is being accused of misconduct. One scans one's browser history for unsavory sites. One finds nothing but innocent missives and a photoshopped image of a man in a yellow singlet. One reads from a script in wobbly tongue. One isn't in this for the long haul. One blames capitalism. One questions the notion of performance in capitalism. One dreams of stepping outside capitalism and never finding a way back. One questions one's integrity in the moment. One's body heats up from the core and splits into limbs. One thinks this could be a dream. One questions reality. One tries to hold back tears and is successful. One looks at one's cell phone and says to call with any questions. One thinks about all outcasts with fondness. One feels proud of not fitting in. One's body roils. One's body rushes vertically. One hand shakes one's shaking hand. One stands and nods. One hugs a hug that is false. The hug doesn't trust itself. The hug dies in the room where other hugs have died before. One's body feels lighter. One's body feels heavier. One walks outside and breaks. One sees the nurturing bow of trees for the first time in months. One frees a chuckle from its cage. One pisses one's pants only a little.
Medicine Cabinet
Excuse me,
do I have any words in my teeth?
Last decade’s bathroom
combed a cowlick away from its
burgeoning bald spot.
Don’t read this too closely
you may sneeze.
A shower of sick
could compromise our immunity.
Even dust bunnies
blinded from the flash bulb’s end of spring
wonder
who the fuck are all of you people?
(non) sense,
pissed on toilet paper trails
unearthed by an internet sensation
with a fan base of fourteen.
Stale from lip plumping and
midnight toilet banter.
Can’t deny the sadness
of a one time clicking heart.
Office Job
Meetings about meetings
about meetings about
meetings about meetings
about meetings about
meetings about meetings
about meetings about
meetings about meetings
about meetings about
meetings about meetings
about meetings about
meetings about meetings
about meetings about
meetings about meetings
about meetings about
meetings about meetings
about meetings about
meetings about meetings
about meetings about
meetings about meetings
Any plans for the weekend?
