4 hours before i have to go to work,

Maybe i can call in sick,

But then that puts the pressure on others,

I can’t be a disruption. 

Mehhhhhhgg. Bleeeeeh. 

Get some sleep. Get some sleep.

Instead i am writing 

To you, person

Who is probably just scrolling

Past this, wondering

How he got here

To this bland nightmare. 

Poetic equivalent 

Of a dim cracker, 

Unsalted on the counter. 

I like crackers. Never into sweets,

But crackers.

The salt. Especially,

The ones shaped like fish

With the cheese powder.

Probably terrible for you.

Maybe they discovered

That they’re worse than 

Crack-heroin, but 

Big-Cracker suppresses all

That stand in their way

Of selling cartons of dead, 

Dried cheese to kids

Like Little Stewie Hagerman. 

Don’t buy them now

That i’m adult. 

Okay, maybe

Once in a while

When i’m feeling down.

Janice said they were bad,

Empty calories. 

Do i deserve anything better?

Janice thought so,

Or maybe that was just her way

Of controlling things. 

Oh well. Crackers, 

Crackers,

Crackers...