you glimpse a moment
or it stares at you
becomes
a
THING
so you scribble it down in a secret book
pleased
you saw it
pleased
you noticed you noticed its standard horror
and
you
wrap it up fresh and quick and keep it on ice
in
a
freezer bag
and
its
nurses again - theatre staff really
in anonymous blues and paper caps
eyes
are pools
are angels
are nuns - sun in black rainstorms
shining
from
the
over-washed uniformity
and
when
changed
and
clutching car keys clocking out
they
look
somehow
just
like
condiments
in a hungover breakfast nook
from jeremyriad.com
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