crowded Monday subway its mindlessness botanical you take the first seat claim it for your age your figural effaced your t-shirt smelling already like somebody
else’s sweat a toddler is crashing against your leg his mom gives him a sucker he hasn’t figured out how to fit inside his mouth you taste the instant’s sumptuous pause
between confused and choking on surfaces you can’t fit your lips around and swallow incentivizing short terms that electronically spit you out your genes passed on
without you in the pool you didn’t know how soon would drown you
Copyright © 2015 by Rusty Morrison. Used with permission of the author. |
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