Salt

 I’ve always wanted to be in a car crash. 

There is something so settling about the way I would watch the car come at me. 

My heart would pound and my feet would try to brake,

 But something inside me would want to hit the gas. 

To seize the moment and wreck us both for what we are.
The metal would wrap around me as the impact shook my tethered body.
The crunching sound would be almost too beautiful to focus on life.

And maybe,

Just,

Maybe death would come.
Maybe I would see just who pretends to care about me,

The people whom I barely know grieving over my lacquered casket.

Salty tears from their salty beings.

Fuck you.

Bruce

IMG_1110

He smokes?
Out of all the times I’ve laid eyes on him as he shovels the steps of that concrete
Never once with a cigarette
Surprise, surprise
I cut another car off

7 o’clock, he’s shovelling the snow from last night
12 o’clock, he’s trying to keep up with the falling snow
2 o’clock, smoking and shovelling
4 o’clock, still shovelling
At 6, he gives up
Calls it a day
Goals complete
His daily race against the weather

Does his entire life consist of shovelling, smoking, and over pricing goods?
It must be…
Bruce
You need to live a little