Leftovers

Putting left over fried rice
and chicken in tortillas
we brought back from dinner
as a midnight snack
to break open the boredom
I’m feeling from slipping away.
I finish off the half smoked cigar
in its plastic wrap still stuck closed
by the eight cent sticker I didn’t remove.
They say its easy to do nothing
and let the hours you’re given
get shredded to saw dust in front
of you but I don’t think that’s true.
I think it’s hard being held down
by those forces we don’t like
to talk about working
in the background like
the circles we use in our watches
to just keep track of the time.
She boils sea shells from years ago
she found somewhere stashed
in a jar labeled “Florida, 2006”
and we come up with ideas
of what to do with them.
She is dead set on necklaces,
and I being lazy
want nothing more than to
but them back in the jar
and put that jar on the back
of the toilet in the bathroom,
so when I stand there
mid piss I can pretend
I am one with the tide.

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