"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
fuck-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 shit 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.