Sour

Image

“Hey! We’d love to have you back!”

He says. I don’t even know the voice

but it bumps me. I recover

quickly, with force, and put things

in the right order. One, “Uh…”

Two, “Thanks.” Three, “No thanks.”

His voice holds the line,

“May I ask why?” Subscribing

leads to persistent recycling.

It’s a drag. Memories

are heavy. Atmosphere twists

the inconvenient. Bitterness gets through.

The ugliest feeling I have just keeps calling.

My blood sugar is steady but the rest is a lie.

I am sour still. You can only avoid a ringing

phone for so long. 

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