It’s one of those days
where you want to say something
to someone
but you know that they’ll
gang up
against you if you say it.
It’s one of those days
where you’ve left slaughtered
for those
who can’t care less
and you know
that they’ll never care more.
It’s one of those days
where you asked someone
a question
and you’re ready to cry
because you know
you shouldn’t have asked.
It’s one of those days
where you put down your cup of coffee
and you put down a buck
for a waitress that will have to hand it
to her manager anyway
while you walk home to nothing
but pasta leftover from three nights back
and you’ll sit to watch the news
about people with lives for the better
or for the worse
while your cat chews quietly
on the 59 cent fish food
that you left out for her
on top of the bread bin.
It’s one of those days
when 59 cent fish food
is all you’re worth.
~ To be published in Page Seventeen, issue #1, in May 2005