Journal Fifty-Four Scales Tipping in Unison

The first full day alone and I'm bored out of my mind. It's not that I don't have things to do. I do, and I'm doing them, it's just nice to have someone there, another presence. Not a disembodied presence, mind, but a wonderful boyfriend presence who sometimes surprises you with ginger ale. Alas, it's just me and Kalliope for a while and Kalliope is definitely not a person (she's a snake). She is growing fast though. In fact, today she moved up a size on the mice. She's now on to fuzzies, so I'm pretty proud. Anyway, today felt long and empty, like a hallway during classes. I'm preparing for this night to feel the same. Here's hoping I have dreams of Egypt.

A Box of Mice

I get out of my car
and a guy in the street
asks if he can buy
a cigarette from me.

I say no, explain
the box in my hand
is full of frozen mice,
food for my snake.

It sounds like a come on
I didn't intend,
so I add, "You know,
the kind with scales."

We both laugh nervously,
like we half-expect guns,
like "cigarette"
is code for something else,
like this is normal,

the man in flannel
in his driveway
with the box of mice,

some Surrealist game of Clue.

But we both know it's nothing
and it's already over,
so we edge on in silence,
occupy the other parts
of our very different lives.