One french fry remains
on the plate. I paid for the
french fries. I eat it.
One french fry remains
on the plate. I paid for the
french fries. I eat it.
Watching ice skaters
fall down, covering my laughter
with a gloved hand.
Commotion in the
hallway. Co-workers gather
to view the sunset.
Early morning staff
meeting: We slowly peel oranges,
trying not to disrupt.
As I step out of
the shower, a streak of sunlight
enters the bathroom.
My friend’s house: The whole
living room rearranged to
make room for the tree.
Woman runs out of
the salon with foils in her
hair, pays her meter.
Squinting to read the
directions I scribbled on
a post-it note, turning.
Sound of trash bin wheels,
rolling to the end of the
driveway. Early morning.
Steam from cooking rice
fogs up the kitchen window,
increases privacy.
At the pagan book
store: the tarot reader and
the shopkeeper smoke.
Parking lot of the
park. Coming in and out of
cars: dogs and strollers.
First time using a
new blender. Approaching the mix
button, my finger shakes.
Out of the corner
of my eye, staring at other
ladies’ tattoos, judging.
Chatting around a
pool table: We duck and move
out of the cue’s way.
Work hasn’t begun
and already the sun seems
to be setting. Ouch.
The smell of cat poop
on a down comforter. This
day can only improve.
At the post office:
Surrounded by folks shipping
presents. I’m shipping paper.
At the copy shop,
in the recycle bin: a
page of someone’s zine.
Tarot cards on the
table, tequila in the
glasses, truths revealed.
Morning walk: Standing
in sunshine, eyes closed, looking
ridiculous. Fall.
Placing mushrooms in
a paper bag. Produce guy
says, “Try these. They’re fresher.”
Leave the lights on all
morning, afternoon, evening.
The darkness never stops.
Driving through a rain
storm, listening to Swedish
electro music.
The appearance of
the cat at the back door is
preceded by chimes.
Cold morning jog. I
pass walkers who hold steaming
cups of coffee. Yum!
“Maybe it’s not my
place, but I hope whatever you’re
going through gets better.”
School bus driving by:
Inside a girl holds a yellow
balloon lit by the sun.
The adults in the
movie theater laugh. None
of the kids get the joke.
Text message from a
guy I like, sent while he’s stoned,
makes my stomach warm.
Under the porch light,
carrying something square: A
pizza delivery guy.