mmmmmccxxxiv

Thick Dark Circles Under My Eyes

     I took a cab then walked then caught a bus and now I’m on a train.
                                                                            —Micah Ballard

I’m losing my touch.  I’m no longer in touch
with my fair city.  I am up until 2am playing
games by myself, which is the opposite of
engagement, my religion.  I’m engaged, but

the opposite of engaging.  Taped to my door
when I return from my doctor’s appointment
is a notice that lets me know that my apart
ment building is being painted beginning this

week and it goes on to demand that I shut my
windows between the hours of 8am and 5pm
on weekdays until the painting is completed.
I missed my food pantry today because the

appointment with my doctor took much longer
than expected.  By the time I left the doctor’s
office to head back home I was ravenous.  The
car that had been arranged to take me home

canceled so another car had to be called to
take its place.  But within five minutes the
second car had arrived and I hopped in to head
home through the lunch hour traffic, growing

more and more sullen thanks to my hunger.

Once home, I ate in too much of a rush and,
feeling exhausted, laid down and slept until
after 7pm, when I received a call from my

boyfriend.  We carried on with intermittent
laughter for exactly fifty-nine minutes, said
good night to each other, and I then played
video games for another three hours, then

wrote a few lines of what I call poetry.  Be
tween games I catch a few political podcasts,
and all the while keep promising myself that
I’ll watch The Invite before going back to sleep.