I pick and poke
and **** for meaning
and find it on shelves,
in the broken dashboard
of my old car,
and in the pain of glaring
directly at the sun.
In doubling up on ramen packs
and drinking Corona past 10pm
because I’m drifting.
In swiping left and right
in search of something
I’m not sure I want or need.
In searching for meaning where, sometimes, there is none.
I pick and poke and ****
to find a reason to care.