Passings
One of the things that help
me pass the time are clichés.
If you’ve got a subsidized
housing situation and you
read in your local newspaper
that someone died in the
bathroom one night while
shooting up and yet wasn’t
found for nearly two weeks
you might wonder on what
floor of the building in which
exists the tiny box you call
home did this transpire? And
what about the fake candle
they place on the makeshift
memorial each time someone
from your building passes?
Where’d that memorial go?
