The bodega
across the
street has
not yet
closed up
I consider
ordering, decide
it’s kind but
ultimately unwise
This pandemic is
an introvert’s secret fantasy
I don’t have to talk to anyone
but myself and G-d
This might be
my deepest problem
I don’t know
where to begin
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8:30, he rolls
grate to pavement
I’m doing laundry,
the inevitable consumption
of being alive
We both say goodnight
to the night
and without moving
run headlong
into tomorrow
____________
Photo by Jim Ronan
