Just a minute left before I should pinball out of my building doors
and speed over past the new high riser,
gust of wind pushing against my little body,
tiny amongst these buildings going up.
My eyes switch between the time and the streets,
My feet fall soft and I’m safe.
The trains not here yet and then it is,
and then I sit and I rip my book out of
my lunch bag, ticket tucked under my bookmark
In case the conductor don’t see me
I’ve been reading about the golden state killer.
Rye’s a five minute warning and then
I’m speeding out of another door down
the stairs past the elderly,
across one of the many ****** Port Chester
streets difficult to cross but I’m walking
my legs dart fast past the head shop and the bread shop
and my nose is filled with sweet and sour.
I walk faster- avoiding the CEO
he rides the same train and I don’t want to talk.
So I march forward and don’t look back.
I get closer and mentally flip off the line of five short men
catcalling me in Spanish, all the while peeking in to the brisa marina window
to see if there’s anything my herbivorous mouth could swallow,
but i don’t break my stride.
They’re practically a butcher anyway.
I climb the stairs to the entrance, stepping beyond the dead baby bird carcass
I was hoping some other animal would consume yesterday
and the avocado shell that would have been good to bury it with.
I try to shake the thought of impending doom as I swipe myself in
Still going as fast as i can so that I don’t have to hold the door open for the CEO
Call me petty, but I do enough of his bidding on a day to day
And I ascend to age 5 years for 10 hours.
And then I run home just to do it all over again the next morning.
