angry young man

jack sits at a diner table alone.
he picks at his eggs running, burnt toast,
bacon curled up disgusting like it’s hard
to cook bacon it’s just bacon and oh god,
the liquid light climbs up the mirror
toward the clock and the din disappears
and fork over plate he thinks
her outstretched and now that man
damn it, no, stop,
oh god,
the feel of a jaw unhinging under raging kunckles
of a bloody running no stop it and stop
and fork over plate and down and
he feels it in his neck, shoulders, chest,
eyes unfocused breath and breath.

stop. try again. food to mouth
bacon, how hard is bacon and
fork over plate
rage problem i have a problem
i’m scared of me and

stop. breath and stop. chest and neck
and breath and breath and stop it
stop it stand up cash
and door and car and stare
out unfocused stop it breath
and breath and breath and breath and feel,
for once, damn it who’s right stop,
ignition, radio and focus and clock.

three minutes.

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