It’s been dusk for days. Cancelling moods.
Both of us back-pedaling and spacing.
Tim’s? Sure. Eye contact shitty. Lineless,
we abrupt small-talk, indulge disproportionately. Here?
Here: One-sided TMI to a jangle of anecdotal gossip
and gossipy anecdotes, then finally the meat:
the crash of the candy machine, the no-reply email,
the time to watch more day games, and the dead pet.
Strangers innocuous as variations on the jelly donut.
The absence of sugar packets focuses the heart.
Jeff Blackman 