I’m in the Waffle House, almost 4 AM;
just finished setting some coins on the railroad
tracks and I’m gonna go back later to get
the flats. I’m sitting at the counter when
this guy sits next to me and he’s looking at me
and I’m about to turn and say WHAT?!
but first he says, I like your Ray-Bans,
like all glasses are now called Ray-Bans,
just because they have this dumb logo
on the wing. I hate this guy for even mentioning
my glasses, for talking to me at the Waffle House
at 4 AM, but I mutter Thanks and leave and take
off my glasses and walk along the tracks blind.

I met her at a party in Dee’s
mom’s basement. She sat on
my lap without asking, threw
an arm around my shoulders,
and I dug my hands down
on either side of the sofa
cushion, closed my eyes, and
thought about the black widow
spiders nesting in the ceiling
corners. I kill them when
they get too low, Dee’s
mom had told us earlier.

We wrote to each other
for a few years, confessing
fantasies about each other’s
bodies; but then she moved
to California, and I got married,
and Dee’s mom died, and
the spiders finally made it
to the floor.