you’re ready on tuesday

i on monday

you the only vestige left

of my memory

intricacies

of dancing with another person’s rhythms

to make life work

i’m wrung out by tuesday

adrenaline

ATP

only enough

anymore

for a few hours

per week

saved up all week

so i can return email

enough to exist in the world

phone permanently off now

having waited decades for someone to call

but this morning

i can think of

so much

to tell you

by tomorrow

holding all these words

will be fruit rotting

in my hand

this broken society

therapy instead of friendship

people lonely but oblivious

thinking sqiggles on a screen equal love

oxtytocin

community

tribe

whiteness washing over those real things

as usual

coopting the names

to autosub users

there’s a pot calling a kettle…

payment

instead of love

while whores still depopulate

morning streets

handcuffed

i have only you

i a good friend

you a person in an office

with a credit card scanner

we are both cheapened

if there are real friends somewhere

they are not here