He drifted into consciousness
downing an acidic brew
Just enough to get down the stairs
and into the piercing sunlight
He stumbles into the train car
listening to soft angelic singing
Hoping everything will be ok,
that he doesn’t need to eat today
But as he clocks into work
and a lifetime of bodily destruction sets in
it’s hard to not just want more aspertame
If he ever loses focus
he just downs a bottle at the space heater,
just one more day out of urgent care
They always ask him what fills his summer days
or what his favorite restaurant is
Starbucks and xanthum gum
with a side of jaundice and fatigue
Maybe next July the bloating will go away
Maybe when the lease ends I’ll leave the city
and the weight will melt away
Maybe in the next life I will be skinny