The speed limit’s 45, you rat bastard.

Nice turn signal, jackass (there was no turn signal).

There goes the Jesus Cruiser (a PT Cruiser with Christian stickers on the back).

Whoa, how’d I speed up so much?

That one’s gotta go.

Are they on a 30-minute lunch, Jesus!

Slow down.

Damn it, slow down.

Jerkbag.

Asshole.

Dumbass.

Every day we do this.

This is killing the planet.

Get me outta here.

Why do I need to do this
I say to myself as I move the razor
over cheeks flecked with stubble,
my shallow neckbeard
evaporating under the heat of the blades.

I am not
“professional,”
nor do I see people
as often as I used to.
I run my fingers through longish
lank hair,
and I admit
I do look a little better
with a clean face.

And when I pull
my hair back a bit,
I see how a haircut would look,
and it’s not bad.
It fits
the standards of the day: short,
simple, and clean.

Okay, you got me:
I feel a little better
after cleaning up a bit.
I push myself into the outline they made.
My outside looks enough to fool them.
My thoughts, though … I won’t cut those to fit.

an automatic paper towel dispenser
activates ad infinitum, rhythmic and
mechanical –
but who is ripping the paper?

1. Don’t knock on doors that should have nothing behind them.
2. Remember which lights were on and which ones were off as you walk the halls.
3. If the parking lot is empty and you hear some(one/thing) in the building, leave immediately.