a Tuesday one could use

***************************************************************************************************

שָׁלוֹם [shalom], March.

Maple Fest 2015

d is for damned [it doesn’t deserve capitalization.]

my Thursday was three hours spent at dept. of motor vehicles, with disgusting people: body parts hanging out all over the place, shitbox kids with iPhones and Androids drinking Coke and eating chips, and healthy, virginal sixteen-year-olds flapping their lips about their licenses, while my blood sugar scraped itself against the floor, and all hope and desire to ingest food slowly withered with the money spent, and the stress slithering through my pores, and the vending machines which neglected to have peanuts. the room was like school and jail and smelled like the club at 1:41 am when you just wish you had a taxi and an attraction to something, but instead you have dirt and bad dance music.