At McDonald's

 On Powell and 60th I told the girls

I saw a monster in the creek when I was six

He was grey, I said, and screaming at the fish

he tried to catch from his rock island, with sticks

Why the other children didn't see him (all 3 leaning in now)

was because he was too shy, but I (oh their freckles!)

was just quiet enough to sneak behind a tree (Sal's dimple! She knows it's fantasy)

as he uncurled his little grey body and opened his mouth full of teeth

We were waiting a long time for our cheeseburgers and fries

New Year's Day, this story my own run from ennui

teenagers in the booth beside us with eyeliner and muddy pants

(or maybe young men in their twenties?) laughing at the girl bringing their trays

A man across from me without a nose

ate his McChicken slowly, covering his face with his hands

between bites. A grief that I pulled away from

but felt, heavy as the backpack beside him, blue FILA, clean

Oh new year, oh muddy world. Splatter me with evidence

that I am here. Don't let me forget how Victoria looks, laughing, missing both front teeth