I imagine death
Is like snow blown from a branch
Upon hitting the earth
There is a rapid loss
Of color and form

The sound of a plane
And a robin's egg blue sky
Peppered with pink clouds

Unexpected warmth
The sun hanging comfortably in the sky
Porches hidden in the shade of their roofs
The smell of damp earth
The high green hedges hiding it from
Everyone on the root raised sidewalk

I find you everywhere
In a bird's song echoing down a brick laden alley way
In the pitter of rain on a slate roof
In the cold sting of an abandoned bobby pin stabbing the sole of my foot
Left from your last visit
But I feel you most of all in the cold spaces
The empty indent in my bed
Makes me realize how empty my life is
Without you

Red tail circling
Your cry echoes through the trees
Who do you call for?

Hello World
Thank you for the white birds and blue sky
The green grass and brown bottles
The gnarled roots and the flower petals
The packed sidewalks and empty fields
The sounds of dress shoes on pavement and
The smell of gasoline and leftover Chinese

Hello Void
Thank you for the sanguine embrace
The swarm of ants on the fallen bird
The weeds peeking through the cracks
The calloused conditions and the jaded outlooks
The fields of blood and people impaled on metal skewers
The smiling skeletons and cackling hyenas

Goodbye All
For all the white birds and swarms of ants
There is little solace to find on either side
So I'll rest here
In the middle of it
Where we thrash in barren hills
And gather under the stinking blooms
To try and find the sense
In any of it

Black cat perched on wall
Watching a dead, **** choked tree
In a ruined yard

"Metal Elitist"
A nasty title for sure
Slayer ******* rules

"****** Death, alright!"
Sunburned smile reclining
On plastic pool chairs

Procrastination
So obviously hollow
Nothing, with false weight

It's hard to focus
When the fan blows hot trash smell
Through the apartment

Humidity thick
A fallen leaf with curled sides
On the puddles edge

I went to the shooting range with my friend
We both grew up in families that valued guns
Hate it if you'd like
But it'll happen whether you want it to or not

After we punched holes through paper
We went to a local dive bar to have a beer

We call Yunegling "lager" in PA
You just ask for a lager
And out it comes
I've made this mistake of asking for "lager" in other states
The bartender looks at you like you just cut your tongue off
And put it next to your bill as a tip

My friend told me that he has a reoccurring dream
Where he's in a fox hole
And his rifle jams
And the enemy charges him and
Runs him through with a bayonet

"That's horrifying"
I tell him, putting my glass heavily on the bar top
"Nah, you get used to it"
He says, lightly lifting his glass to his lips
"It doesn't hurt, it just has that floaty feeling
Like 'this doesn't belong there' and then
I wake up clenching my fists"

I guess that one can get used to all things
Even being run through in the sacred
Space of dreams

Steam on my window
The alarm had been silenced
Rain showers clover

Dread can grow swiftly
Like weeds in a flower bed
Roots crawl through my gut

Who knew that the cure
For a mind stricken with grey
Was leaves on the breeze?

When you sit at the same desk every day
The walls tend to get a little closer.

When the walls get a little closer
The doorknob seems to stick a little more.

When the doorknob sticks a little more
The windows start disappearing.

When the windows start disappearing
The long fluorescent bulbs start to hum louder.

When the long fluorescent bulbs start to hum louder
The ceiling and floor start pressing in.

When they ceiling and floor start pressing in
You know it's time to get out.

When you get out
You may want to get back in.

When you think you want to get back in
Bury yourself in advance.

An empty playground
A multicolored hijab
Rainbow on asphalt
Rain drops wetting the sparse trees
Their leaves sounding like drum heads

On the scorched Queen's sidewalk
I pass seemingly aimless people like myself
I am wearing shorts and leather sandals
They wear backpacks and pants
Flannel shirts and earrings
Sneakers and baseball caps

They all seem to have a destination
But I'd like to think that they don't
That none of us do
We are all Wednesday's mid-morning nomads
Looking for
A dollar for our empty hands
A bench in the shade
A place to rest our bags and shoulders
A place to remove our caps and wipe our foreheads
Complaining of wandering in the heat

Put another record on
While I pour another glass
And fill that clouded
Empty expanse
With a nice amber
Hue and we can talk
About god and music
Until the sun comes up
But no song or god
Will match the tangerine sun's
Corona as we fall asleep in the
Night's dew
Put more metal on
Put more Bowie on
Put more classical on
Put more punk
More hip hop
More Wu Tang
More Big L
More pop
More hair metal
More classic rock

More who gives a ****

My teeth are numb against my lips
And everything sounds good
A proposition
A song
A liquid taking up empty space

Just keep me here
Next to you
The rest of the world looking
Up or down

It didn't matter then
And it doesn't matter now

Shhhhh
Let the carpet slip from under my feet
Let the wall pat my back like an appreciative friend
Let the stairs seem long and winding
Shhhhh
Let it all be caught up in the back of your throat
Sore and raw
Keep it away from those you can
And those you can't

Wake up with the regret of the morning
Spilled across your face in
Buttery swaths
Drink deep the pain of happiness
Tasting ethanol on your breath
Like a can of unmixed paint

There is no torture
As great as being a man
At a dress fitting

The floors are always too clean
So many feet and not a scuff anywhere
And it's too hot
From the crowds and the heat
Still cranked up in summer

All the store displays look the same
Ridiculously dressed mannequins and
A bunch of prepubecents
Cluttering around the entrance
Or worse
Pubescents spending their parent's money
To look like the mannequins

There is nothing of value on any
Of the three floors
Yet it's all marked up at a premium

I am no different
My eyes jump from window to window
Face to face
My mind working over time to take it all in
In my confusion maybe I'll start
Handing out my credit card
"Give me three of those"
"Six of these"
"As much of this as I can afford and then some"
"Thank you, thank you, thank you"

We can all go home mannequins
Faceless and frozen
We won't scuff the floors
Or crowd the stores
Just remain on display
A cheap plastic statue

You know, it's strange
How you can be aware of your
Own mortality
And it is a weightless thing
A breeze through an open window
That slams a door unexpectedly
And we all laugh

But how sometimes it can settle
Solidly in your lap like a kitten with black fur
Or a wounded bird with ****** breast and bent wing
Making itself known
Corporealizing into a barnacle on the brain
Or in the valves of your heart
Giving itself gravity

It hovers over you the day you're born
A raincloud filled with paint thinner
Stripping your layers away
As all the minutes that won't come back
Seep between the cracks and down drains

It's also strange
That this feral frailty chooses to expose itself
Either in your happiest moments
When joy swells in your guts like an inflating balloon
Or in the quietest
At 2:03 am
When the fan is running and the clock
Slaves away methodically on the far wall

Regardless
It's there
It will always be there
Whether you want it to or not
So let the kitten lie
Ring the wounded birds neck
And
Hold out your arms when the cloud belches
Its preemptive warning

The rain will fall
So will we.

I woke up late this morning
It took me awhile to get out of bed
And when I did
I contortioned my body at odd angles
To squeeze all the sleep out of my bones

I looked out on the backyard as I peed
And saw two cardinals hopping around
Bright splotches of red in the overgrown grass
They stood facing each other chirping loudly
I couldn't tell for what until I saw
The female, brown and plain, standing by
On the banister of the deck
Watching the standoff

One of the red males fluttered up next to her
And she took off, not satisfied
The one still in the grass took off madly after her
The one on the banister galloped its length before taking off
Like a rolling lit firecracker
Its fuse too long

They both flew towards the house
Out of view
I scurried down stairs
Mildly overweight, hair sticking up at odd angles
Like a ball of broken glass
Thundering down the steps
The most ungraceful of all creation
Lumbering and over excited

When I got the back window
All three of the cardinals were in a wet clump
Of purple flowers that had opened themselves
To the scant sunlight of an overcast day
The female jumping and chirping excitedly
The two males weaving and bobbing in and out
Of the flowering bush, a pair of dueling sowing needles
Trying to knit the song of success

And then they saw me
My shirt an unnaturally bright electric blue
My face pressed stupidly to the glass
My grin unnatural and dreamy
As I watched this common display
That is still dazzling to me as I think about it
And they all flew off at once
To settle their matters elsewhere

Hammocked on two beanbags
With a glass of cold beer
And a magazine
Splayed across my lap
The silence in the apartment
Making my ears ring
Too many local metal shows
And shooting guns without
Ears on
So now a phantom
Traces a musical triangle in my ear
Always

Just as well
Silence
True silence
Is supposed to drive people
Crazy
And I don't need
Anymore of that

My girlfriend and her roommates
Will be heading back from
Work soon on the subway cars that
Constantly hold the stale smell of
People

"This is nice"
I say outloud
To no one  
And by acknowledging
The moment so I have
Adulterated it

Existential crisis aside  
This is nice

I have two things to say about planes:

1. Ginger Ale will never taste better than when you're on a plane.

2. Why the hell do they put the volume and channel controls on the arm rest of the person next to you?

Both these facts make no sense.
But they're true.

Lurching over
A river that flows
So slowly that it
Becomes the sky's
Mirror

A bridge is stretched
Easily over it
Staring at itself
In its entirety
It's meticulously
Constructed arches
Become hollow mouths
In the rivers silvery
Surface

I want to visit
The river one day
As opposed to
Just passing over it
So I can watch
The belly of the day
Skip across the river
Like so many flat stones

Watching the train tracks
Kiss and retract and
Kiss and retract
They meet and depart
Like a pair of silver lips

In the distance there are
A huddle of crumbling buildings
That used to be factories
Or warehouses
They're now bleached bones
Under a dusting of February
Snow

There is a silhouette cut out
Of a dog that stands in front of
Them, closer to the tracks
So close I almost missed it
I wonder what purpose it could serve

I suppose
To remind someone of
What once was
Or what could still
Be
A solid shadow to stand out
Against so much bleached
Bone

In the brown dead brush
We lock eyes and his tails up
Locked in the cold trees

When I had a job I felt
Like I was always grasping
For time, any time that I
Could pull towards me
Like air bubbles drifting away
From deflating lungs deep
Under thrashing waves
I don't know what I wanted to
Do with it I just know that I
Had to pull it towards me

Now all I have is time
It is a comforting and alarming
Concept

Now, what is the excuse?
Where is your novel?
Why aren't you in shape?
Why haven't you gotten your flu shot?
Why isn't the house clean?
What's your purpose?

Meditating on these points
In the syrupy folds of the clocks
Hollow ticking
I find that life is
Boxes to be checked to keep
Everyone else off your back
While you try to figure
Where to even start

I had a dream
Where I sat in a
Gloomy room
And ate candy
Every different
Kind of candy I
Had ever had and
Some I had never
Seen before

This dream seemed
To stretch for days
Like most do
That strange
Taffy like distortion
Of time in the brain

When I woke up
My tongue was
Sandpapery and
I had a long
Hair tied around
My uvula while
The other end
Hung over my
Bottom lip

The candy must
Have tasted so sweet
Because the hair was
One of hers

I knew there was
Trouble to be had
When they called me
Up to the executive
Floor and sat me down
At a mahogany table
Long enough to seat 12
Across from the
Stoic HR lady

We sat alone
Save the head of
My division
Who wore a thin
Line of a mouth and
A loud red vest and
Matching bowtie
He rested his bony elbows
On the table and said

"Too many mistakes
Have been made
We've decided to
Terminate your
Employment"

This came as somewhat
Of a shock to me
I didn't like my job
Few people do
They wouldn't pay
You if it was fun
But still
I showed up
On time
Greeted the customers
Counted the money
Locked the vault
Did what was expected of me
And did my best to
Exceed that

I guess those were all
Mistakes

"Ok"

I said
And the HR lady
Jammed a hammy
Opened hand into my
Face and I shook it
Numbly

I followed the flaming
Red vest down to the
Lobby where my
Staff watched me
Clean out my desk
Everyone had a
Strange sourness to
Their faces like they
Had smelled a **** that
Hinted at some deeper
Health issue

I turned my keys
And combos over
Told my staff to have
A nice weekend and
Walked out the front door

When I got home I
Stood in the hallway
Not sure of what to do
Next

My dad asked from
His office

"What are you doing
Home? "

"They fired me"

"Huh. Well, no worries
Everyone gets fired at
Some point"

I walked up to
My room and put
The box of
Coffee mugs
Hot Sauce
A Death Valley
Postcard from
My mom that I
Had taped on
My desk
Down on my
Bed

After two miserable
Years of my life
The only thing I had
Gotten from that place
Were a few coffee mugs
And a constant weight on
My chest

I sat down on the end of
My bed and felt that weight
Melt like warm butter
Off my chest
Down my legs
And disappear through
The cracks of my
Hardwood floor

I was on a freezing
Train platform when
A cursing man approached
Me
His smile already queued up
"Hey man,
I tried to ride the
Train with an old
Ticket"
He turned the ticket
Over and over
In his hand
To accentuate this
Point and continued
"And i have 9 bucks
Could you spot me
For the rest?"

"I have no cash"
I lied
As most do
When confronted for
Money by a stranger

"You don't need cash
You can use cards on
The machines"
He said pointing
Towards the bank
Of awkwardly standing
Ticket kiosks
Our only companions
In the chilly night air

"Nah man, i'm good"
I said

His expression changed
Not to anger but
Disappointment
"Well, thanks anyway"

He walked off cursing
A broken trail of white
Breath twisting dizzyingly
Away from his head

Standing there I felt bad
That I hadn't helped him
He only needed 7 more dollars
And I had six crisp twenties
Folded neatly in my wallet
And two credit cards
Nowhere near maxed out

For some reason
I started to interpret myself
As part of the problem of mass
Apathy amongst men
In turn feeling slimy
Unnatural  

I made a point to lap the
Station multiple times
To find this man and give
Him more than he needed
Not to help him
But to prove to
Myself that I wasn't
A phlegmatic  
******

I caught him inside
With another young man
About my age
With a softer face
Giving him a sandwich
And a few crumpled bills

They traded a few words
And laughed
I returned to my
Perch on the platform
Alone in the
Freezing night air

Later the man came out
Smoking a black and mild
And waited next to me for the
Train

When we got in he only sat
A few seats from me
I saw him take the
Ticket he told me was old
And hand it to the
Attendant
Who punched it and moved
On

Later we made
Accidental eye
Contact down the
Aisle
He queued the same
Smile and turned away
From me

She is hunched
Over across the aisle
From me
A balding man
Sits against the
Window next to
Her speaking
To the girl
In between them
In spitting whispers

"I'm going to throw up"
The hunched over one
Says staring at her phone
The balding guy and
The in between girl
Laugh

I can taste the
Beer on my own
Breath and my
Coat is too hot
For the train
I fidget around
Waiting for her to
*****

The balding man is
Mad at the in between
Girl now cursing her
Out under his breath
And she laughs in
Gasping chortles
And the slumped
Over one is pale and
Crumpled like a
Saltine in chili

They all start to sing
A song I don't know
And get off at some
Stop I've never been
To

They bother me
I don't know why
But I could tell
You a million
Reasons why
I ******* hate
Them

It is a superior
Trait of mine
To be able to
Hate what I
Don't care to know
While most
Pretend to know
And hate anyway

Please
*****

I saw two dogs
White and black
On their hind legs
Playfully fighting
On a lawn
Manicured
Into sterility
Minus the
Blanket of
Yellow from
The shedding trees
Coats

I felt like
My life was
Woefully
Behind
That there
Was a black
Hole or a
Black cloud
That followed me
Around

I thought that
All my answers
Were in the bottom
Of all types
Of bottles and
Pipes and
They were nowhere
I should have
Known that they
Were never there
In the first place

I try to
Distract myself
The best that I
Can
Much like
Everyone else
But sometimes
There is a
Chewing worm
At the back of my
Mind
A writhing snake
In my herb
Garden and
I can't help but
Decapitate it
With my *****
And go inside
And have a glass
Of lemonade

Good luck all
As we march on
Into ruins and
A blizzard of
Hot ashes

I'm tired of
Waiting for
The rest of
The world to
Catch up
With you
& I

I know it's
No way to
Think but
One day
We will both
Die and all
This wasted
Time being
Apart is
Making that
Day draw
Closer &
Closer

I don't
Want to be
Away from
You and you
Don't want to
Be away from
Me and neither
Of us want to be
Away from us

We will happen
Whether they
Want us to
Or not

The mariachi band
Is playing dizzyingly
Next to our table
The guitarists
Hair wetly slicked
Back

"We live off of
Tips sir,
Anything
Will help.
Now, something
Romantic for
Your woman"

When they are
Finished their frantic
Strumming
I had him a
Folded 5

They dash off
To the next
Table

I slug a pounder
The beer inside is
Warm and the water
That runs through
The city is the
Same color as the
Water in Disney
World
Dyed that sickly
Turquoise grey

Tour boats cut
Small waves that
Lap the sidewalks
And the fat tourists
Feed tortilla chips to
Swarming clouds
Of small brown
Birds

Another warm
Swallow of beer
And the sunglasses
Perched in my
Greasy hair

Who needs a
******* job
Give me warm
Beer and sickly
Fake water and
A table with her

Two fat young
Robins sit on a
Power line
Reaching off my
House

They don't make
Talk under pink
Clouds and a
Tangerine sunrise

They are serene
Perched in silence
They sense my
Envy and fly
To a neighboring
Tree

As I head out
To my car  
I can hear them
Talking
Probably laughing
At me

I was walking on a
Leaf covered path
The oranges
Yellows
And browns
Of fall carpeting
The fractured asphalt

My dad walked beside
Me with the hounds

"It smells so good
Everything is just
Starting to decay"

The oddly sweet
Perfume of a
Dying forest is
Lovely

He told me
That his wife's
Ex husband's
Wife had
Shot herself
During her
Lunch break

He came home
And found her
There by herself
Much like she had
Been for a long
Time

"Jesus"
I said
"That's awful
No one deserves
To find that"

My dad looked
Out at the massive
Flock of floating geese
On the reservoir
Honking loudly
At one another
As the setting sun
Painted a golden
Streak through the
Water

"Dying is bad
Enough"
He said
"To self inflict
It is doubly
Worse"

I agreed with
The doubly
Worse part

Maybe dying
Isn't that bad
The leaves don't
Sob or scream
As they rot and
Fall to blanket
The ground

I'd like to think
She didn't either

I know that
The trees don't
Mourn their
Lost leaves
And I know
They won't cry
For me

I was driving my
Clunker mercury
Down 95 to the
Train station
When i saw
The moon

It hung humongous
And low
Like an oyster *******
Poured of melted pearls
In the pale
Blue and deep purple
Of friday's dusk
Adorned with
A crown of
Dark clouds

While doing 86
In the left lane
I couldn't take my
Eyes off of it

Then i had an
Alarming thought
I don't think that
Any of the other cars
Or any of the people
Driving them
Zipping past me
Had any idea that
It was there at all

I carry this pit
With me everyday

Sometimes it's in my
Stomach
My back
My neck
The bottoms of
My feet
The back of my
Mind

It never goes
Away
It just moves

It seems to grow
Barbs when my
Thoughts shift
To it
As they usually
Do seemingly
Out of nowhere

Sometimes early
In the morning
Or late at night
Depending on how
You look at things
I can feel the pit
In mid transit

Looking for the
Discarded trash and
Snapped twigs of
A new nest
A new perch to
Take up residence

There is no point
To the pit
It is absurd
Because it exists
It is the
Materialization
Of all the

Rejected submissions
Sideways glances
Passing snickers
Passive aggressive emails
Shelves of unread books
Dust bunnies in the corner
Creaking of floor boards
Board meetings

Clenching of teeth behind
Closed lips

The fading din of a
Conversation as you
Enter the room

Obelisks of junk mail
That choke the
Arteries of the earth

Lies that canoe through
Your teeth into
The sea of
Pointless small talk

Time

A peach rotting
In a ceramic bowl
In a watercolor kitchen
Until the only thing left
Is the pit

I heard a girl
With her leg drapped
Over her boyfriend
On the train

"And like
I don't know why
I'm responsible for
The rent, chase
He should pay
All my rent and---"

Her boyfriend nodded
His head like an
Obedient boyfriend should
Many
"Yes babe"
"Chase should pay"
"You're the best"

I looked out the window
We had been stalled in
The sanguine of the
Penn station tunnel for
Fifteen minutes

Lots of trash
On those tracks
The smashed husks of
Super sized sodas
And the yellowed
Flayed remains of
Plastic bags

The materialization of
An entire species
Concentrated apathy
Decorating the lowest
Circle of its
Most desirable city

We pass an empty
Adjacent train
My eyes dart from
Window to window
The vacant seats
Face their respective
Directions and
The windows
Are still stained with
The fog of human heat

I think about
Islands made of plastic
In the middle of the
Ocean
And
How chase should
Pay the rent

Under harsh street lights
And a rusted skeletal overpass
We walked in the syrupy
Silence of a Sunnyside Saturday
Night

A man asked me in accented
English
"Want that burrito spicy?"
"Yes"
His eyebrows go up
"Spicy?"
"Yes, ******* spicy!"

He smiles to himself
Reaches back into the food truck
And pours sauces and
Liquids of varying color
And viscosity into the
Tortilla

Wraps it up for me
Gives me my change
And waves me off with a smile

When we get back to the apartment
She is mad
Because I choose to make love to the
Burrito instead of her
I can't help it
Drunk eating is one of the
Forbidden joys of life

She slams the door and
Shuffles around yelling
By the time I'm done the burrito
She is telling me to sleep on the couch
Which is fine because I can't
Feel my mouth anyway
The burrito is so **** spicy

I tell her this and that her
Kisses would be wasted
If she wants to waste her time
With me, I want to feel it

We sleep together for
The night

Coming home from the train station
A hare scurries through my headlights
Across the road and is gone

I think about all the hares
And all the other snippets of life
That we never consider
Let alone comprehend

When you make a
Chili dog you never
Forget to slice the onion
Into translucent white
Slices and make sure
Your mustard is dotted
With brown flecks

Make sure you have a tall
Frosty beer the color of
October sunsets
Lay back in a chair
And kick your feet up
For me

When your song comes
On your headphones
Dance like a chimpanzee
Amongst Ikea furniture for me

Don't think of me
When the sky is stained
Pink orange and aqua
Think of something better
Something that is real
Something whole
That doesn't want what
Everyone else wants it
To want

When you stand next to
My coffin
Throw an orchid for me
Or whatever flower is
Cheapest because honestly
I don't know what you're
Throwing

Make sure the soil is
Heavy and wet
Make it clump over the
Cross I didn't want
On the top of my
Pine box

Make sure you think about
How roots and grass
Will grow through me
Eat me and grow
Without a thought

If nature ceased to
Persevere
Humanity would be
Absurd in its
Reckless building
Destroying and poisoning

When you look at my
Pine box think about
Repetition and death
Think about moments
Of brilliance and the years
That beat them back
Remember that hollowness
Is its own form of substance

Most importantly
Remember that a chili dog
Needs onions
And that one day
Your corpse
No matter where it lays
Will fertilize future life

And the circle eats its own tail
Its own tail
Its own tale

Surrender your meager twitching
To the echoing riff of the complete
Watch yourself dissolve
Into the void's cast shadow
Let your panic be snuffed
By the beating of bees wings
And the sorrowful violin
Of crickets legs
At dusk

The fact that everything
Is born apart
But then returns
To the whole
Is maddening
Fulfilling
Hollowing
Frightening
And
Satisfying

All this from a day
Below 95 degrees.

Monitoring her golden
Who was having stomach
Troubles and leaving
Sticky brown puddles
Drying in the sun
With shiny green
Bloated flys swarming
I walked through the
Backyard with him

On the side of her
Shed a blanket of
Aphid pockmarked
Bushes hugged the
Plastic siding

And a single
Spindly branch
Covered in thorns
Protruded from their
Wilted clutches
And presented
One pink flower
Layered with satin
Petals to the sun
Bobbing contently in
The late morning wind

Even though she is inside
On the couch
Here
She is also with me

My friend works at
An old folks home
Makes his living off the
Constant enterprise of  
Death and disease

"It's a dark place"
He says
A parliament light
Between his fingers

He tells me about
A twenty five year
Old who has
Muscular dystrophy
Named anthony

"You should see him clam
Up around this aid, Caitlin.
All he wants to do is talk
To her."

A man
A boy really
Two years younger
Than me whose body
Decided to eat itself
One day
Who still gets nervous
Around pretty nurses

"He'll be dead in five years."

He tells me about Joyce

"She collapsed in the
Airport on her way back
To England. Shes been in the
Home for seven years. Her
Family doesn't have enough
Money to bring her home.
She told me it's all about the dash."

The dash? I say
Tipping the green
Bottle up and draining
The last warm slug of
Beer into my mouth

"Yeah, the dash.
On your tombstone.
It doesn't matter what date
You were born or the date
You die. What matters is the
Dash in between them."

I leave later than I should
When music comes on
The car radio I turn it off
And drive with the windows
Down.

They'll have no carcass
Not when our collective trash
Is up for picking

The front of the place
Smells like buttered
Noodles if you served them
In a shoe
The carpet is brown
To hide stains
Half deflated balloons
Dance sadly under the
Air vent

"So sorry, food will be out
In just a minute!"
She runs back from
Behind the counter
Into the kitchen
The cooks and her
Arguing in mandarin

That's fine I say
I'm not in a rush

I sit on the leather couch
Across from a cloudy tank
Full of fat bright orange carp
They swim lazily in circles
Bumping into each other
And the glass, not understanding

Breathing their own ****
That tumbles in the air filter
Bubbles at the bottom of
The tank

I think about going to
Sit back at my desk
While locking eyes with
The fattest one of the bunch

There are worse ways to exist
At least my ****
Gets pumped into someone
Else's tank