Sometimes I don’t let it bother me and sometimes I spend the whole night staring at the mirror next to the bed thinking WHEN WILL THIS STOP HAPPENING EVERY EVENING. And in the morning usually I feel alright. It’s a wave, parabolas, math. It’s a cycle still but you know how things work in circles, how circles work but aren’t perfect. And I don’t let it bother me but then it’s 9:30 and the whole office starts showing up and no one brew a pot of coffee but me. You see there’s a whole cabinet full of Folgers, you see I am full up like a coffee mug and there’s all that residue dripping down my sides and you call it sweat and I call it my breath because even when I get a good flow of oxygen I still can’t breathe and I lock myself up inside one of those Tetris bricks and think as clear as a windshield about my heart rate and I think like a windshield about all the dying middle-aged men with heart conditions and you say YOU’RE JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE except that when I bald I’ll have that brain-surgery lump on my head and god I’ll look ridiculous and god I just can’t stop pulling all my hair off my scalp.
