For My Tonight
Libraries: Poetry and Song Lyrics
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Prose poem genre. simple writing touching on senses as the narrator goes through a day.
For My Tonight
Today I thought about lying in the puddle,
in the middle of the side walk
where the tree's shadow covered it,
about lying there with my clothes on getting wet
getting stepped on as people passed, lying there
looking up at the sky with clouds,
wanting to forget that I would have to work tonight.
Today I saw the mail lady.
As I stepped around the puddle, she sploshed through it.
She smiled at me and said hi, and I said hi back.
She wore headphones, listening to something.
I envy the romance of her job.
Today an Asian man spoke with me
because I wore my Dragonball Z bucket hat.
He knew of anime. He practiced martial arts.
He told me stories of him being a kid.
Like me. A kid, he said. He knew kung fu, aikido,
and something Chinese. That one I forget.
He visited New York City and got mugged
without fighting. He dated a Japanese girl
in high school before serving in the military.
He was alone. But he was happy.
Today I listened to a man
whom I have named Dannon Yogurt Man
yell at me because we did not have
regular Dannon Yogurt. Two thirty in the morning
and he needed yogurt. Specificity.
Night time, should be sleeping, so tired.
Today my eyes closed themselves all day
against my opening them. A sticky burn of
my knuckles made to bleed and break and die by
punching dry rice. My eyes feel this when closed.
I want them to be open, to not cry.
No more burning, please. Please.
Today my lunch box is empty.
Yesterday it was empty.
Two days ago, empty.
Empty tomorrow, too.
Today I permanently implanted laundry detergent
in my brain while snow fell outside the basement.
See-through soap, but bubbly and yellow
like almost clean piss - a sign of better health.
Wet and cold and stiff washed clothes held close
to determine their scent. Nothing.
The sun sets and I ready for work.
It is still snowing,
so I breathe deeply to lose myself. Nothing.
Clean must be the smell for cold.
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