"what, you're too good to say 'good morning' to me?"
     she asks me as she slumps through
     the front doors of work.

"no."
     I say,
"you didn't hear me say it back?"
     . . . she didn't.

some people try
     to drag everything
into their own collapsing
     star.

     but I brush it off and
               walk away, successfully
          escaping her gravitational
               pull.

later, minding my own
     ****-stick, she fires another
     shot,
     "you sure have a chip on your shoulder today,  I'm staying out
     of your way!"

this time I don't
even acknowledge
                         her **** bird trying
                         to land on me,
                                                  just smile right
                                                  through her.





I turn my
head to
look
outside.  

the smeared
clouds are
rippling in
a smooth cadence
of anticipation.  



a storm is coming . . .
it's gonna be a good one.