We come bearing treats
(cookies to be specific)
made from Nutella.

“Press button to walk.”
Even though it does nothing,
I still press the thing.

Driving all day long
from one store to another
gives me a headache.

Sad and tragic rap
sets the mood for my long walk
down the quiet street.

The glow of the cheese
suggests it is fake. Oh well,
so is the burger.

Very few adults
can squint hard enough to see
pictures on a phone.

Fresh out of prison,
these twenty women gather
pieces of their lives.

Melancholy vibes
fill the auditorium,
thanks to the chorus.

Filthy nesting birds
build monuments to their filth
above my poor head.

It is warm tonight.
The food, the conversation,
the weather…all warm.