engine ticking
some old song leaking through the speakers
trying to read
the same paragraph
for the fifth time
chemo brain—
like somebody rearranged
the furniture in my skull
and won’t give me the map
it’s getting harder
to pretend this is ordinary
harder to act like
the body isn’t running
a side hustle of betrayal
i eat crackers
because they’re neutral
because they don’t argue
because the stomach has become
a small, suspicious country
life keeps moving—
traffic lights,
coffee cups,
people checking their phones
and inside me
cells are holding meetings
I wasn’t invited to
what the fuck
is going on in there
i’d just like
to clock out of this skin
for a minute
and come back
to something
recognizable.