6:23 AM

My reflection stares

brushing his teeth. His eyes,

city maps, roads trace

red from outskirts to

center. His hair rockets

To the left en masse:

He looks awful. The lock

won’t turn without some force.

7:48 AM

The world smells

in the morning. Dewed grass cut

Cut the night before, breakfast

seeps through open windows: bacon,

Eggs, brief scents of leftovers.

I don’t look at the others, but watch

my shadow crawl with theirs.

There are more of us today.

1:29 PM

It starts again after lunch

with the keyboards’

percussion, then the phones’

incessant rings join.

The beeps and squeals

From printers

Introduce harmony to complete

The music responsible for my skull’s

Constant attempts to split.

The band refuses to stay in time

With the clock’s metronome ticks

counting down the beats

Until the final measure at six.

6:09 PM

My mind goes silent

With the quiet chirps

on the street.

Shadows only bother to mingle

When I pass under a lamp or

A car drives by.

Only for a second.

11:10 PM

I watch my reflection

wash his face. His eyes follow

mine as I trace his stubble, too long

to seem purposeful. He shrugs,

walks away.

In bed, I watch

the ceiling and wonder

if he can’t sleep either.