//Start to a noir//

//Start to a noir//

One warm and rainy day in spring
I stood at the bathroom mirror, shaving.

The cat's meow is like an old screen door.

I feel like a dented can of soup,

because I never knew that my youth,

so far could reach.

Headlights, pass over the window,
and seem to incinerate the room.

This came out of the Recession-era a few years back when it felt like I was in total opposition to everything around me. Since then I've adapted: I shave strategically and less often.