on eating breakfast at work

stomach savagery:
that’s what i call this act of hunger.

shut the fuck up and eat
something already, the gut
says, but my muse is too
distracted by the schoolkid
trifecta on the corner of margaret
and main, by the crooked french
braid attempt on the head
of a mcdonald’s employee,
by tremendous brunettes
and mr. bitterness. by the time
i get to festival, the time i get
to work, i’m sure i’ll have
forgotten all about the truth
of the matter, which is that

i’m just really fucking hungry.