Shoes worn by angry feet scuff up mirror floors,
and white paper faces with blue lines
look down to see nothing reflected back
but searing lights and
ceiling tiles that would be so easy to claw through
and climb up out of
if not for the camera
sitting behind that front desk
with her finger to our lips.
Walls peel and whiteboards
squeak as marker fumes
waft down our eyes and noses
to put our sighing lungs to sleep.
Long, exhausted bars of light in my window
Chase away the late night that came before them,
And prime me for the next one.
I look at the empty kiddie pool in my backyard
In the Midwest summer
My friends used to come to my house
So they could all get in it,
But they don’t like to swim much anymore
I am someone who is waiting on a dock in the middle of the night. There is a gross, green electric light shining on me. There is something out in the waves.
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