April 23.
My birthday is tomorrow;
I took off work to celebrate.
My boyfriend and I are going to get lunch.
“Administrative Professionals’ Day” is today.
My coworkers get a cookie text
From my manager—
That’s an 8x8 square of cookie
Topped with saccharine frosting
And edible paper.
The printer jams.
Someone heats up fish for lunch.
Time drags on.
On my way home,
I pass by the cemetery.
A woman sits at the edge of the garden
Where her baby is buried.
She adjusts the Easter decorations she set out last week.
Pastel-colored eggs, a small rabbit.
Near her, his younger brother wanders about
Picking dandelions and
Hopping over graves and
Waving to passing cars.
The child touches his mom’s shoulder
And points out a bird.
They look at it together,
Then get in the car.
Time passes by.
Tonight, I think I’ll make pasta for dinner.
There’s half a jar of red sauce in the fridge
Perfect for one meal.
There won’t be any leftovers,
But that’s fine.
After, I sit at my computer.
My friends are around to play games tonight,
So I nurse a *** and Coke
And hunt ghosts
Until my eyelids grow heavy.
Time flies.
Finally beneath cool sheets,
I reflect on today—
April 23.
My birthday is tomorrow;
I took off work to celebrate.
My boyfriend and I are going to get lunch.
