
now that i look back,
i should have known—
way from the start, actually.
-
people in this place—
their smiles—
like stock photography.
like they’d been grown in a lab
under fluorescent light.
people shouldn’t smile
that perfectly.
-
smile, stay awhile,
-
the neighbors came
with jars of relish,
stories about kombucha gods,
and the same lilting laugh—
like a ringtone that got stuck.
I smiled back,
because that’s what you do.
back home we use smiles like prayer beads,
little shields against the day.
but here—
they bloom like fungus.
-
smile, stay awhile,
-
it gets into you,
like dust into lungs.
the tight grin at work meetings
where everyone calls you “Anj”
because “Anjali” sounds
too spiritual before lunch.
-
smile, stay awhile,
-
at the bin men forgetting Tuesday.
at the blackout, the siren,
the kid hit by a bike.
when Mrs. Clarke told me her husband left her
and giggled like it was a prank.
when the baker down the road
cut his thumb off in the slicer
and said “whoopsie!”
the paramedics laughed,
and I laughed too—
I couldn’t help it.
what else do you do?
it’s easier than compassion—
cheaper, too.
-
smile, stay awhile,
-
I’d whisper to myself,
washing blood off my uniform
at the end of shift.
sympathy takes energy,
and laughter’s cheaper fuel.
you can live off it for weeks.
a patient dies,
someone spills tea—
and the same sound comes out of me.
too much like joy,
too little like anything else.
-
smile, stay awhile,
-
through hunger, through rent, through rain.
smile, stay awhile—
it rhymed with “alive”;
it felt like staying sane.
-
there’s this point where absurdity
and despair shake hands—
like that one night,
i looked out the window—
every porch light was a mouth.
they were smiling up at the sky,
faces stretched thin as code.
their laughter was electric.
-
smile, stay awhile,
-
it was so funny
I bent double,
laughing until my chest ached,
until the room spun.
pain folded into parody.
the mantra humming under my skin.
I didn’t speak it—
it spoke me.
-
every morning,
the sun’s on fire.
the world’s still spinning.
and god—
it’s all so funny.
smile, stay awhile.
smile, stay awhile.
smile,
stay awhile.
smile,
stay
awhile.
.
About the Creator
Iris Obscura
Do I come across as crass?
Do you find me base?
Am I an intellectual?
Or an effed-up idiot savant spewing nonsense, like... *beep*
Is this even funny?
I suppose not. But, then again, why not?
Read on...
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