Standard Operating Procedure

I.

 

You met me.

You met me

on time.

 

You met me

on time

& had no choice.

 

A weak, creaking

gate seized us.

 

The bolt burrowed

air into your head.

 

I initiated it.

I got paid to.

 

II.

 

Work gloves hid

chapped, tense

fingers.

 

Hair slicked back

with sweat.

 

The sunlight stank

& I emptied

all promises.

I got paid to.

 

Screams curdled

& sank my heart,

drowned in

the trough.

 

I wanted to stop.

If only I could

get paid to.

 

I paraded what

was left.

What was left

paraded me.

 

I was a culprit.

I committed.

I got paid to.

 

I got paid to

hide stress deep.

 

III.

 

People buried you

inside their bodies.

 

They felt nourished,

then sick.

 

Gurgles were heard

& lasted nights.

 

Their contentment

capsized, as it does.

 

This is common

& no one blinks.

They keep eating.


Also by Stephen Danos

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