Receipt Poetry

words scribbled in my checkbook at work
You look well rested
he told me
Plumb and sparkling and well rested
I recokon I do
I slept for ten hours last night
veins pumped with coffee and weed.

I was thinking of you
he told me
handsome and smiling he told me
You still have the firewood
I slept for twelve hours last night
head full with fairytales and weed.

When will the living live?
I see plastic mannequins in our place
I swear that’s not what living is.
After a while of life like this
I forgot what it really looks like.
I see pictures and videos
but my eyes see not the same.
Is reality better spent artificially?
I live through pictures
while I stuff my face with
fake plastic food.
Is this supposed to be nourishing?
My stomach whirls.

When you stare up ahead
your hands keep moving.
Busy bodies set to working,
heads turned to the sun,
I think that’s how America works.

Think ahead to better days
you take care your dues.
Turn your eye from here and now,
face toward the sun,
I think that’s how the people work.

You fall on your face
blind don’t pioneer trails.
Look upon the present view,
turn to your peers,
I think that’s how the people’ll work.

I feel nothing
not now,
sometimes I feel so much that my body cant handle it
it aches with things that wound deeper than I know.
I feel nothing
like a well ran dry,
I have nothing left to feel if I did I couldn’t stand it
nothing is the only way,
let it pass through me and say nothing of it except that it was there,
and gone the next and didn’t affect me at all
But it does,
sometimes I feel it all, the weight of the world, and I can’t stand it
I fall back, slink back, don’t feel
I feel everything.

I’ve seen all that happens because life is one rerun,
your cliffhangers and twist endings don’t surprise me,
there are none,
I know that it’s all good in the beginning, I know not to be fooled by that, I know you’ll leave in the end.
It’s not your fault,
it’s scripted,
it’s how things go.

I still decide to stay for the show.


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