the sound of salesmen 					             laughing 

ellipses in 		emails
                                                            unexpected 

                              crunching under
foot the complaints of 
computers 
                          unplugged too 
                          soon

green-grown 

                                                   color of mold 
                                                                    on white 
sliced 

bread the speckle 	     of skin 

                           scarred by 

      sharp 
nails and zealous 			     fingers when 

                                      tweezers 				fail

unsolicited 
                                                                  greeting cards from estranged 
                                                     relatives phone 
calls at 
              night                      signaling 

              an end 	of cards

setting alarms on Sunday nights and waking Monday 
mornings 
                                                                                                             anything 
                                                                                                             asking 
did you forget 

clumps of wet paper dissolving on bare fingers smells all smells the sound 

                                of customers	      retching