nothing is but what is not

I can taste exhaustion like

it has been spooned into my mouth

one bit at a time

and I can smell the disappointment on me

like lead poisoning -

it travels.

ii

I carry a Soseki novel under my arm

and my carrier bags under my eyes

and no matter how much or little I sleep

I tire from the head down.

I die on my feet.

iii

Parallel parking from someone who can't drive

eating food from someone who can't cook

breaking shoes from someone who can't walk

- a fine way to end all matter with the sound

of a voice reciting Virginia Woolf in my ears.

iii

And I feel sick.

Food refuses me and I'm tired again.

My stomach and back hurt as my ears throb behind my eyes.

It burns to talk

and the shoes break as I walk to the doctors office

to sit down and tell him to hold on to something.

iv

...but he dismisses me and nothing begets nothing again...