This Day

6:00 a.m.

I roll over

one eye opens

then the other

I take a few long

liberal drags of my vape

then shower

and eat

God forsaken oatmeal

then check my calendar

and see what the day has for me:

storm clouds

and never ending rain

that will trickle in spurts of blood

a car will hit me head on

and I will die.

“what a day”

I say.

I say

scribble that

and look deeper

into the heart

of what I can make

of this bloody day

away from my family

in a house that’s busy

no quiet

a roommate that goes to sleep at eight

his noisy kid

and a TV that vibrates colors at light speed.

I think I’ll just make oatmeal



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