8/5/17 9:15pm
Marla

I’m selling some clothes.
I am Jack’s utter lack of surprise.
Dodging cars since I could walk,
I’m the daughter of the subways,
broken glass of the sunrise.
Stumbling fumbling between intersections.
I keep seeing you in red,
The lights outside my apartment.
Somebody called the cops.
I don’t know who we are this time.
When I wake up
Smoke shudders
Shoulders in thrift-torn second-hand-worn
fur.
She’s bony and slick, the stray cat.
But still he wants her.