Gas Station Bathroom

I open its rotting door.

I catch an old man staring at himself in a dirty mirror-

Hands clasped to the sink,

Neck crooning,

Mouth slightly parted.

He whips his head towards my direction.

His eyes expand in a moment of unmistakable dread,

As if abruptly awoken from a dream.

 

He hurriedly brushes by,

Head down.

Reviews

[The Twin Arenas]

oh yeah. neck crooning.
bathroom is sick.