“Take the day off.”

Thank you, for not gushing about your backbreaking benevolence today.

I didn’t particularly want to go, but went after watching caramel stick to the sides of a plastic cup. I usually end up tearing them apart. The cups, like I do with boxes of Kleenex when summer hits.

No one talks, which I don’t mind. The silence is especially tolerable as this is one of a few locations where the Disney Channel doesn’t giggle all day from a battered JVC from 1995. A wall separates the staff from the seen and I’m able to feed words into the mouths of people I don’t know who walk four stories below.

I didn’t have a story today. Neither did you. Nothing changed, aside from a session cut to a full ten minutes. Usually, there’s a girl who listens to nursery rhymes on a cassette player bandaged with Lisa Frank dolphins. I didn’t see her.

The receptionist liked my sweater. I always wear sweaters. Unlikely to change, like August’s angry sidewalks. I passed a house for rent on my way back, wondering which hurts more. A nail through softened soles, or crossing the street barefoot? This I ponder from time to time as I’m fine with a few cheap shoes.

The pulse remained in spite of the coffee. I told the nurse I stopped running. She asked me why, and I told her I found it boring. And, I’m lazy.

I wrote the renter’s number on a card in my pocket. Haven’t called.

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toleration

pinky and the brain –
inseparably hypercritical,
cynical,
nonsensical,
lyrical.

hypoallergenic
in their languid stroll.

soliciting tears
when you walk too close.

siblings and rivals –
reluctantly fused,
glued,
chewed,
perused.

*Cats No. 31 and 32 of the 500 Cats Project

Dreamboat

I think I’ll buy a boat.
That’s what everyone’s doing.
Or, what everyone wants to do
before the oceans dry.

There’s a clothesline snipped in two.
A mousetrap, feebly painted.
Garden gnomes are smiling.
Reality’s strangers to travel.

Do you believe in peace,
and that cyan flowerpots
can be mended,
courtesy of homemade glue?

I do,
while you may doubt.
Still placing a pillow in the farthest corner
where I’ll consent to dream.

*Cat No. 30 of the 500 Cats Project