It all makes sense
when I eat lunch.
Dinner is cold,
I’m unraveling
all of the mystery smiles,
the fake opinions
and the good jobs.
I concentrate
on word relationships,
sneaky blind dates.
I think if I could get them out,
maybe they’ll slow down.
Those charming adjectives,
and their arrogant nouns.
Are we all this scared?
I want to see
if it’s not just me.
I think about the spiders
in the downstairs bathroom.
They’ve probably see it all
I bet they have the answers.
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