First Day of School
September 21, 2011 § 1 Comment
On my first day at work
I ate the sandwich my mother made me
six years ago.
The fluorescent lights made me lonely-
bright whites washing out,
with my teeth falling out
and my youth
burning a pit
in the linoleum floor.
(There should be a word
for wishing you were somewhere else.
We do it all the time.)
In the afternoon, my boss reminded me
of my mother, except I couldn’t
put my head on her lap
and by 5:00 I was hungry again,
wishing I had left half
of the sandwich.
There should be a word for that, too.