nothing quite smells like
fresh wastewater in the morning
they wanted me at the treatment plant
hovering over a pump that gave up
and knows better than all of us
that moving **** around is just a temporary fix
they want me over the sensor
that gave up in solidarity with the pump
and needs a bigger skin care routine
than all the women I've ever seen
the electric Peugeot van to get there
who only does the speed limit
also knows better than me
that there is no rush
to risk our lives
the **** will still be there
they want me at the meetings
it's important that we know what we're all doing
we wouldn't want to treat the ****
more than it needs to be
though I suspect the real reason
we're all there on a Monday
is so we don't feel completely alone
when we have to be
all the other days

you scroll on tiktok while taking a ****
I write poetry
and scroll too
and read
productive as fluids leave
and art and boredom creep in
the answer to the age old question
of why men spend so long in the bathroom
most men don't know what to do
and I pretend too
as our assess speak to one another
via our sewage connection system
the farts whisper softly
"no matter how much you try to forget"
"you are this stinking imperfect body"

I had been a citizen for three years
and after the millions spent on me
in welfare and expensive medical machines
it felt like they were more desperate
than me
"no he can't die yet"
"we have to fix him"
"he owes us more than forty five years"
"of labor and taxes"
maybe the economy will crumble
maybe they'll name a recession after me
and curiously
now I feel I owe them something
though I'm not sure what
a billion of half-me's already frozen
for ten years in the clinic
ought to have them covered
in case all those CT scans, MRIs, and chemo
don't quite cut it

"oh, you've shaved your head"
she said
"new look?"
"yeah"
I replied
"I call it: non-seminoma"
"I now belong to that rare club"
"must be fun"
she snorted
"it is"
and I was glad at least
she was not a gravedigger

anxiety, my
mistress, my
muse
never enough for
panic
always there like
static
the buzz around the
brain
the biting of all the
nails

yes, I have done more
from this anxiety
than most people do
in their whole life, but
it was forced, not natural
like driving with the handbrake on
pedal to the metal
in this crash course
until the car unalives
and there's only a ghost

whenever I was feeling a bit too
content
comfortable
cocky
I took great pleasure in watching some of my favorite war stories
Saving Private Ryan
Band of Brothers
Apocalypse Now
Gladiator
Black Hawk Down
Generation ****
Full Metal Jacket
Come and See
and others
and if I was particularly up in the sky
I'd watch more like
V for Vendetta
Lord of the Rings
Gravity
Alien
Elysium
Rogue One
Interstellar
Jurassic Park
and The Walking Dead
and soak in all that individual suffering
and drive for survival
and quickly fall down to earth
but somehow also be energized
for the plight of the stories
was not as bad as my own
and I was not as strong as they were
yet even if just a little of that strength
rubbed off on me
inspired me
transversed the air between the screen
and my eyes
through some still unknown
knowledge osmosis process
I could make it
even if everyone else around
wouldn't

I allow myself the expensive hobby
of dreaming in this such economy
I dream I can start a company
and make it work
and it's a topic I love
and I get paid more for my work
with such money I buy even more
useless stuff
short term experiences
more collectors of dust
I dream I can even buy a house
and debt is not a problem
and I have room for me
and all my dreams
in each of the rooms
and even room for you
someday
ah, yes, I also dream of you
perhaps an old-fashioned
meet-cute
as we grow in love
I dream I resist the urge to yell
"what took you so **** long"
I will not dream so much of destinations
but of the freedom to travel
to see friends and family more often
no longer constrained
by the price of luggage
and available dates
and the ticking climate
in my conscience
that it's too late.