[phone, keys, cigarettes, wallet] by Reed Karsh

healthier, happier, more secure, no longer frightened of the mornings, finding passion in supply chain management, daily bread, a thumbs up, avoid stepping on shattered Old English, gym membership for one dollar down, on sale, heart not beating too fast, waking up early to walk the dog, silent and motionless through the wake, a breakfast of champions, self-awareness and authenticity, can’t come up for air, smile to the cashier with the pixie cut, head will collapse if there’s nothing in it, not praying for a car crash or reactor meltdown, no more crying in the shower, not in this economy, waiting for direct deposit, in debt to the Crown Royal, sound of church bells roaring, rotating tires every fifty thousand miles, no more dreams of escaped gorillas chasing, round up the change, 20% to delivery driver, low tar meals and high fiber cigarettes, smile to freckled cashier in burgundy shorts, call the florist to order yellow and white daisies, crying through the eulogy, side airbag protection, on Sundays Bud Light, a new button down, finding the perfect tie, some assembly required, one pound, one pan, one happy family, no more tightening belt around neck, holding breath for as long as possible, in a better state, no new taxes, not shaking on Saturday mornings or standing on the edge of the roof, shoveling driveways in the winter, an active member the community, confident, generous, no more pacing the floor and throwing up on the rug, safe, surprise call from talent acquisition, happier, healthier, strapped to a chair with needles in arms

After Thom Yorke

Reed Karsh was born in Erie, Pennsylvania and now lives in Pittsburgh. He enjoys thoughtful music and good beer. His recent poems can be found in The Mochila Review and Red Cedar Review.