Late at night
On my third wind
I am exactly calm enough
To believe my own thoughts
So to write
A poem,
And exactly nervous enough
To end the poem
Before I ruin it.

Finger picking
My acoustic guitar
In the dark
By the breezy window
Steady shoulders
Naked.

To say it's 2 O'clock
Feels like an insult
To 1:58
And even more of one
To 1:57
Which is often called
1:55 or 2
So much can happen in 3 minutes
I am so sorry
You are overlooked

Kindness is like
Pushing a swing

Action, reaction,
Kindness is

Beep. 
Beep.
Beep.

When you ask me
How are you today?
Across the steady flowing river of barcodes
You want nothing from me
My robotic response:
“good”

I'm compelled to tell you that I am angry
I missed the bus this morning
I am grocery shopping
Which is not fun
And you are out of my favorite brand of deodorant

You do not look at me
You do not care
I do not care
I am swimming upstream
In and around milk cartons
And sticks of margarine

Beep. 
Beep.