Like a family of rabid ferrets
at a cul-de-sac clam bake,
my anxiety devours the day.
From trying too hard
to get the right windshield wiper
to rain ratio
while driving in the sunshine state...
To haggling over a broken vase
at a yesterland yard sale,
just to save it from the same fate.
I can sell the moon from my bed,
as an episode of Seinfeld fades to black,
a panic attack in dreams,
it is a wretched relief to believe.