They gave me a nametag and a uniform
I count coins and wonder "who will be hungry today?"
Sausage-like fingers grip thick wads of bills and sticky cards
I tap on the screen and say "seventeen dollars"
He answers me, "I'll give you seventeen if you come home with me tonight"
Since when did someone put a barcode on my forehead?
Beer breath seeps like a sewage leak
from a thousand pits, a thousand faces
spiralling into a pool of brown and black and white and gray
but it's dirty fingernails,
it's always dirty fingernails
Sometimes I find them on my shoulder
I remember nightmares of a grizzly,
when I was torn apart, licked up by a sawtooth tongue
I'm awake now but still cut into bite-size pieces
by the sharp knife of a gaze
It follows me to where there are no streetlights,
just miles of dark parking lot between me and my car