"I didn’t sleep, so I worked early..."
06/13/17 18:55
I didn’t sleep, so I worked early
I worked early, so I left work on time
I left on time, so the Vietnamese sandwich shop was still open
The subway was stuck, and the sun shone, so I stepped out
Reached the bridge, and then clouds came, stones cracked
And I crossed half the bridge in flooding rain
It was summer, so I decided the rain was nice
Shielded my pockets and calmly walked
Then the wind burst, and something stung my ear
Then the wind burst harder, and many things stung my ear
My neck, my closed eyelids, my shielding hand
And I crossed the other half of the bridge in a flooding hail
I escaped into a convenience store on the other side
Bought an umbrella for too much
And two Toblerones because there was a sale
And that way I’d get a plastic bag
Put my phone and my wallet in
Full of papers and passes all wilting wet already
Stepped outside armed and armored
And the rain had stopped, and the sun was here again
Ate the first Toblerone in a minute straight out of fury
The second in five out of sadness
Went straight home, and realized too late
That I had forgotten about Vietnamese sandwiches
And the only lessons I could draw
Were to sleep late, work late, leave late
To stay on trains, avoid bridges
To never trust the sun nor the rain
To settle into suffering if I’m suffering already
Rather than close the door on an empty barn
Don’t buy Toblerones on an empty heart
And abandon all hope of Vietnamese sandwiches
I worked early, so I left work on time
I left on time, so the Vietnamese sandwich shop was still open
The subway was stuck, and the sun shone, so I stepped out
Reached the bridge, and then clouds came, stones cracked
And I crossed half the bridge in flooding rain
It was summer, so I decided the rain was nice
Shielded my pockets and calmly walked
Then the wind burst, and something stung my ear
Then the wind burst harder, and many things stung my ear
My neck, my closed eyelids, my shielding hand
And I crossed the other half of the bridge in a flooding hail
I escaped into a convenience store on the other side
Bought an umbrella for too much
And two Toblerones because there was a sale
And that way I’d get a plastic bag
Put my phone and my wallet in
Full of papers and passes all wilting wet already
Stepped outside armed and armored
And the rain had stopped, and the sun was here again
Ate the first Toblerone in a minute straight out of fury
The second in five out of sadness
Went straight home, and realized too late
That I had forgotten about Vietnamese sandwiches
And the only lessons I could draw
Were to sleep late, work late, leave late
To stay on trains, avoid bridges
To never trust the sun nor the rain
To settle into suffering if I’m suffering already
Rather than close the door on an empty barn
Don’t buy Toblerones on an empty heart
And abandon all hope of Vietnamese sandwiches