In the kitchen they are laughing
and I am counting all the cars
that I see through the front doors that are never clean.
From behind me I can hear them,
I missed the joke or fast remark,
But I smile at their stabbish humor anyway,
knowing their lives are more dead than mine.
We speak to each other in broken languages
and so we never know each other’s full names.
`-Kaitlyn Medina [6/11/09]