Everything is Going to be Just Fine
after Marty McConnell
Everything stays under the covers until
just three minutes
before the bus will leave
the vestibule, its
see-through, glass walls that
rarely protect from blurry winds
everything watches
the bus pull
from the station,
everything does
deep-breathing-exercises on the
next bus that was seven minutes
later, 3 minutes late
for work,
0.25 occurrence points
per the times everything is late for
work, but everything
is working on not letting the stress
surge and
bubble outside the bus
window, searing heat and shooting
like a beam through the roof
the bus, the job, the
chain-chicken place where everyone
goes to eat lunch, weekly, on a
stool. Everyone is playing
the capitalism game in one way
or another,
everything is a handful of
old fish sticks from
the freezer
on a plate for breakfast, is so many
hours on the bus
the train the
bus the desk the desk the desk
everything is at the desk
and then, one day, everything sits down
at the computer, properly, types
a goodbye, waits out the weeks
til the game is over, for a moment,
everything gets to walk out,
feel free, uninsured. People say best of
luck but everything can’t
break a leg, in that
outside place