Long Lunch

Today feels impossible.
How can a day, obviously happening,
and with essentially no difficulties
be an impossible day? Today
is the answer. Breathing
becomes voluntary (though still 
unfortunately
possible)
I talked to a co-worker, 
(which was fine)
I moved objects from one box
to the next, I located a pamphlet.
Impossible. I could do nothing else,
all day long, and no one would know,
and the possibilities are
nonexistent. Happening day leers
at me with its unsexy digital face.
Not even a sensual ticking to
prick my unease. No round faces
licking numbered lips. Just
one number, then the next.
Then I’ll go home. Smile wanly
at my child. Obscene scene.
How many of my
Precious memories of a
beautiful maternal face are
wan smiles, filtered through
my unmade brain. What kind of brain
does a wan smile make, when making brains
do wan smiles meet? I don’t even
wan to smile, ha. Ha. It’s all
impossible today.