Supine, I am watching TV.
In the dark, light moves against the wall
behind me as the scenes change on the TV
and nothing else happens
but night turning back into day. I witness it:
The nothingness, the feeling of wasting my day
off from work. I think about ingesting caffeine
to make myself more of a person
that is motivated and interested in life.
5 am on a Friday is a time that doesn’t exist to me
when I can sleep and my father is pulling
the trash can out onto the sidewalk.
Tonight/This Morning I have a distinct sense
of 5am and sadness in my stomach as I lie supine
but I can’t cry like this
because of gravity, maybe. Who do I need
to email to improve my life?
When Kanye says, “Ain’t no tuition for having
no ambition/and there ain’t no loans
for sittin your ass at home,” he is making
eye contact with me.

Outside there is a singular bird
seemingly shrieking out
into nothing, performing the sadness
that I project onto her. It sounds
like a nervous breakdown,
I know this. I feel it
in the vibrato and the tree
branches, given temporary meaning,
clutched by light bird feet,
feel an immense sense of duty
to console. Feeling an immense
sense of duty, I want to call back to her
but the bird wouldn't understand
that she wasn't alone. There is nothing
I can immediately do
to fulfill my sense of duty to everything
that is suffering. Keep in mind,
that I would hurt someone
if I knew who to hurt. Am I
the ultimate goodness?

On the TV,
Steve Buscemi looks sad, the way his eye folds sag,
though he smiles and laughs
with slicked back hair.
He waits tables through the TV screen,
making the lights move on the wall behind me.
I lie and I watch him
I feel myself not cry
I hear the bird shriek
and then become apologetic sounding:
softer, slower, desperate,
and then silent to my ears.

But the bird can shriek at differing decibels,
heard or unheard to me, and I can only remain
supine; Steve Buscemi can always wait tables
through the TV screen like this,
even in death,
and I can watch him.