Health

I sneak upstairs for a smoke

at the end of a long day

of sleep

 

My mother asks what’s wrong

with me

am I eating right? surely not

 

She’s not a nurse I’d want

to prick

my finger

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Bird Shit

I work in a restaurant

I say, and smile

 

As if I haven’t

just stepped off a roof

and gone

kersplat

 

Beneath her shoes