We are offered various
options for which to
relieve ourselves.
One is too random.
Slow down again.
10:30am, an
escapist, alive.
What’s wrong
with checking
online? Star-
dust in a tight-ass
box. Run on the
mill. Or through
it. Putting the
bills into a bag.
I tried to sit
in Union Square
to finish the
half-poem/
half-novel,
but instead
I went to
Borders and
spilled my latté.
The story of me.
