A man walks up to the Amtrak
station attendant. This man
knows who he is and where he is,
but his thoughts are shot,
and he has to open the wound
for any answer.

After a talk
tracing circles outside Pluto,
the man will be frightened
by the terrible din
of the train.
His mammal response
will get him shot
or in solitary. Either way,
littered.

A girl and her cane
pace circles in the psych ward.
She's hurt so many people, 
but she covers the blood
and never grasps her soul.
She prefers the ward to the shelter.
Her knee aches.

A man buying kombucha
texts a woman eating Wendy's
with her brother, whose car died
while he was driving a friend
who will be homeless in two months.
The one, hooked to another to another to another,
to desolation.