Sickly

The refrigerator is full but
its light is broken. It always
flickers when you open up
the door. I saw a woman
throw a paper airplane
from her balcony, it did
one loop in the air then
slid cleanly in between
the lips of a storm drain,
then dissolved in all the teardrops
of the sky.

A chain suspending a vat
of melted chocolate
broke in a completely
automated factory.
The programmers
never planned on such
a contingency.
All the lost conveyor belts
kept on grinding through
their shifts and all the robot
arms kept wrapping
processed bars.

This artificial sweetness
hits every sense we have
in one, but I am done
rewarding cowardice
with the time I was bestowed
at morning’s rise.
The front windows are like
a pair of eyes that cannot move,
like they belonged to birds.
There are no words for what’s
outside them so just to simplify
think of the fridge again,
but empty and with a light
that’s always on.

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