Tuesdays Are My Long Days

everything
and i mean everything
looks so different at night
with the rain and the shadows
the parked cars and the street lights

the blinds that are still open
so i could watch tv with you
see your ugly 80s art
through your un-curtained window

i've been analyzing all day
but it's still nothing like
picking apart all the sounds all around
deceiphering and deciding
from whence they came

is that my sloshing
jeans hem in the mirror pond puddles
or is it a stranger just walking
behind me?

i never noticed those gardens
those bushes or lights

are those red white and blue
lights in the form of a flag
left over from the fourth
or up for the eleventh?

and i come home well past hungry
blood sugars've been dropping and
my brains shutting down
so left-overs it is
but now
i have left-over left-overs
and absolutley no clue
where my jello cups are