if the next day

i feel a burst beneath my pinky toe

lift my foot in disgust

to find a dime of green mush

ground into the tile’s grout

i will probably not cry

despite my pulsing eyelids

the way my head whirs and burns

and the poison swirls in my lower gut

i will not growl

either i have no propensity for anger

 

i think i will sink to the floor

curl up in a pea

and press my cheek into the caulking

hard enough to leave an impression