Searching

My life is a collection of old receipts
and black pens
that I can never find when I need them
they're somewhere
with my glasses
bought,
paid for,
missing.
Eye strain and stress
Too much caffeine and never enough sleep.
At least I keep receipts.

I Can't Help It

They’re moving my desk at work

The one in front

Perpendicular to a wall of windows-

To parallel

Directly across from the glass double door

My escape route

Along the side wall

Into the back room

The warehouse

Outside to the tree line

Behind the dumpster

Won’t be accessible

And I wonder what pictures

My wife will submit to the news station

Our wedding day

The first time I held Kendall

Two days old

Will I have finished graduate school by then?

Will my wife be murdered before I am?

On her way to work? Home?

On a bagel run?

Who will know what pictures to use for me then?
Will there be anyone left?