her Eastern
European
and I've got
coupons to
Kentucky
Fried
Chicken.
In this silence
only typing
clicks and
the snore of a dog,
only the whir of the computer
and the high pitched
sizzle
of a muted TV
in the corner, disturb
any sedentary
lack of sound.
And I think of
the Eastern
European
boyfriend
and my coupons
and listen
all these little noises
and find
I have nothing
better to
dwell on.
Nothing better
than women I had
long
since
forsook
and what their Eastern
European boyfriend looks
like and how
big a boy he is.
Nothing better
than stirring
conscious shit,
nothing better to do
than make myself
feel forlorn
for something
I never had
in the first place.
Nothing better
than striving for
a noisy white-noise
silence and
thinking of
those wouldas
couldas
and shouldas.
The shoulda
been more open
the woulda been better
if
the coulda been
married by now.
Oh, the shouldas are the
damnedest.
I have nothing better
to do
than to save money up,
to save money buying
chicken
with coupons.
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