Day 10,080 in the life of Justin

I sit it the New Genres computer lab, at this Mac, and wait.

I wait for my keys to to clink at the the lock

I wait for the apprehension that Arugula or peeg is behind the door

For the reflection

In the picture frame glass to reveal

Whether I am home or not.

Will I see you sitting at the computer, and will it be

Sufficiently dark outside so that the light from the screen

Is glowing about you

Or will I be halted

As you talk on the telephone,

white wine glass present

pink sweat pants, tanktop voice in attention

Aware that its volume makes me cower

I sit in the kitchen at the table by the bookshelf

and eavesdrop and shame stew

It will be over in one way

or



another way



whatever will be will be

It will

I pretend to know what you might do

and yet whatever it is

won't be what I thought yet it is necessary to try



This could go on and on and it will