Nothing is in order.
There is no arrangement in which to recline.
I step backward,
I step forward,
It doesn't matter.
My shoelace comes loose regardless of direction.
Soon, the slip and stumble. Soon,
A desperate clutching action,
Hands quickly opening and closing, opening and closing,
Again and again,
Alarms going off in the morning for no good reason at all.
I have nowhere to be.
Hardly anyone does these days.
Nothing is in order.
I haven't made my bed in weeks.
Crying feels ridiculous.
