Nothing better to do

Poison in my coffee. I knew I should’ve left a tip. Always in a rush. I’ll be late to my own funeral.

Living in a blind society. Waiting for the curtain to fall. Make my coffee, drink my bed. Traffic, am I right?

They gave me time to kill. So now I’m killing time. What I don’t understand scares me. Thank God I brought a dictionary.

They’re making that noise again. I suppose someone made a joke. Working to earn paper. Pushing paper for work.

People act so calmly. All the while clinging hard. Wealth, age, the things you love. Statistics on a trading card.

Beginning to forget my name. The name of my only friend. Must meet myself sometime soon. Hope I’m not stood up again.

Dead rats don’t win races. Cogs will never get ahead. They stay in place and turn and turn. A ferris wheel filled with the dead.

Slanted Sunday rain. I tilt my head so I can see you. You’re smiling like a crazy person. Because you know I’m right.

The reaper’s hollow whistles, Fill the empty, lifeless street. I dance along, both eyes closed, With nothing better to do.