getting in the wrong line
at the bank
or the grocery store,
the one where the machine
breaks down,
or someone needs a price
check on
a bottle of alka seltzer
in some far off aisle.
i see a pattern.
taking the short cut
home that becomes the long
cut, with an endless
line of orange cones.
a flagman steering you back
to where you once were
a half an hour ago.
i see a pattern here.
picking something off
the menu
that keeps you in the bathroom
making impossible
vows to God until dawn. or
picking the person
to be with, who turns out
to be an inevitable
ticking bomb.
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