convenient store lighting settles on you
from the corners of your jaw
down to the back of your converse
where the jeans are frayed,
turning white and brown.

you don't see me watching as you
slam the heinekin down
on the counter.
if you turned around now
i'd pretend to be busy
with my cigarette,the tape player, or looking for my i.d.

what do you do
when you can't sleep?
i sit up all night
at the table in my corner,
drinking and
turning everything into a metaphor.
fluorescent lighting isn't really symbolic.

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