9/6/18
the exact parking spot eludes me no matter how many times i visit
i pretend it doesn’t irk me but my mind won’t let me off that easily.
everything else is clear:
the fog that emerged at sunrise and sat worriedly embracing the car,
the lone sailboat quietly smacking its lips, waiting for the carcass,
the low gray ceiling stealing all
promise of a sunny day,
the frustration of knife cuts
that coagulated & a blocked tail pipe that failed to keep its promise
i walked into the hospital like someone entering a cafe for their coffee and found himself in a dream of line drips, blood draws and an interview
that had no correct answers