At 6 AM

at 6 a.m. according to my shadow i had grown another head another long arm that sifted long fingers through my own knapsack but i didn't feel a thing

i guess i was an easy target an early-morning woman carrying way too many things i mean looking way too far up into the sky but i whipped my hair through the air i smashed my paint box into the side of his face, i said "you leave me alone, our Mother is dying and i am on my way to CHURCH!"

but that didn't really happen our Mother was dying and i was too sad to say anything smash anything and anyway all that was in there were tampons and napkins and these he scattered down the street in a supreme gesture of disgust