Always be kind to
Your restaurant server
And the local convenience store clerk.
People need to be
More in the moment,
Sit back and recline.
Put down the bottle of moonshine.
Cigarette, remote controller, fabric softener, dumbbell, eggshells,
Blown brain cells chopped in fine parallel lines,
Amongst the dimes and quarters on the coffee table.
They need to unwind
And watch the spin cycle.
My second grade English teacher told me two parallel lines
Stretch invisibly into eternity,
In both directions.
That thrummed something on my mandolin
Because as I sit here and look at this page I see them
Invisible and stretching.
I could write onto those lines
And lose the poetic rhymes.
All but the universe of the white square you read.
I am too greedy for that.
I don’t want to lose any of these words.
I don’t place down my pen.
I keep it upright and spilling.
Emptying the reservoir.
Undistilled, unlabeled, and unbottled.
Aged and ready to ferment into a fine poison.
I wish the local store clerk
A pleasant evening
Besides the fact he has not made a sound.
I pay for my
Mary Jane’s lipstick remover
In the form of coconut water,
And I always tip 20%.