Head of Lettuce

Imagine:

On a carpet, full head of lettuce, stark mad

and you are holding and crunching.

This image never leaves my mind, when i can't go a day without crying

holding up your mascara by a finger in the elevator

fuck.

I can't remember if it is an image of a short story, a play, or a thing an old professor said

but this head of lettuce

as sustenance

makes me break down

with < $100 in my bank account

thinking you got to get it together

but this is the most adult I've been - an employer contributed HSA, car insurance, 

death and dismemberment plan

But it is still 2 in the morning, you've been indulging passions 

searching for more money on the side

how many times am I allowed to say say fuck.

Fuck.