I tell the therapist I’m
broken not busted
but he just smirks
like a toppled tombstone
or the death valley sun
I unpack my duffel
toss my dirty underwear
on the floor but he just smirks
like a taxidermied lament or
canceled ryan adams song
spinning in a loop no one ever hears
I tell the therapist there’s
an Uber in the alley
a limo idling in my throat
that it’s prom night
which is why I’m wearing
this bloody boutonnière
but he just smirks and
swallows two-fifty flat
I tell the therapist I’ve
got nothing left to say
but he just looks at me mona lisa-like
winking with one eye fixed on the window
the other waltzing out the door
Len Kuntz is a writer from Washington State and the author of four books, most recently the story collection, This is Why I Need You, out now from Ravenna Press. You can find more of his writing at https://lenkuntz.blogspot.com.
Eunoia Review 