Quietly waiting
we go home
to the same meal
and the electricity of our past loves
in a glass of water
and the pigeons don’t know
and the Chinese pervert at the wig store doesn’t know
the meth-head sneaking White Hen coffee
face like stucco
the whores
and the bicyclists
and the slow hands on the clock
of an eight-hour workday don’t know
It makes people mad
you can see it in kindergarten teachers
gas station attendants and trophy wives
cabbies asleep in a Wendy’s parking lot
and Metra attendants on their ritualistic smoke of the day
outside of Millennium Station at 8:15 a.m.
counting the days
‘til payday
while the pigeons
count their crumbs
and all we know
is that we’re quietly waiting
for something other than this
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
Monday, February 23, 2009
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