1/30/14 - 1/31/14 by Lauren Moon

when i am at chipotle eating a burrito alone i like to think that you are watching me eating that burrito, baby i don’t know who you are but you like me because of the voracious way that i consume that big burrito i imagine that you like that i have no shame so i smile to myself before i take another bite hoping you’ll see it oh you’ll see it, baby
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the girl behind the counter in starbucks
asks each customer's name
then writes it down in squeaky black marker
on the side of the disposable cup

a skinny latte for Jane, a mocha for Aoife
an americano for Daniel and so on

this is a momentary heartening
a cosy jazz music experience of the bright indoors
clean surfaces and christian names

when i drink my coffee it tastes nothing like me.

I can see
The scales have fallen away.
They all want me to rosy up my glasses
I won’t be
The polish on their jewelry
Why should I paint pictures of asses?
Its all there
Right in front of me
The world is a fountain of miracles

All day long
night is my storm lantern.
I carry it into this farmland
cutting into my harvest emotions
covered by snow
edge them in half
in front of me.
Do not laugh at me, a circus clown down,
I am sixty-six; my dimples show smiles, ripples, age.
This day is a lawn mower
even in Canadian December.
Machinery is shacked-up, covered.
I plow beneath the white surface
cut rotten leaves beneath settled snow.