A table for one is reading a Kindle
at Toast: it’s the first book she’s fin-
ished in this year of the new space-
aged head. Learn how to organize
in ‘partial alphabetical’ and clean
each individual slat on the six
sets of blinds. The curtains
have de-evolved, they’ve
lost their swagger like the
rest of us uninsured. No
culture in these curtains.
Dr. Obstacle is obviously
part of this adventure. He
bends into yogic tantrums
morningly and noonly,
yellow with the patch.
In the lobby’s a rash of
patients, each with a
bad case of Cuba and
a gnarled fist slammed
over each ear; a pasty fog’s
filled like an air raid with the
Google’s-Gone-Down(!) Alarm
and a loudspeakered litany of
symptoms; each crackle-voiced
outburst a new acronym that
itches like hell, and, because
this is not a test.
