through the tv,
I got potatoes and eggs
with a beauty,
and made friends with ducks
by the door.
I wanted to march
them through the kitchen,
like a British breakfast brigade,
show the kook in the Jeff Conine jersey
under the Goo Goo Dolls soundtrack.
Hell yeah, dawg,
it is pretty much
already Thursday,
and my anxiety
hasn't eaten me alive!
Writing this poem
while on a work call
makes me feel alive,
especially when playing
it by pain.
After I call Joe,
I will break my back
to be present
when life does its iniquitous
roll call before class
inevitably ends in an AI explosion
by Indigenous Peoples Day.