next

my wondering stares
as pointless arrows
bend and fall
as question marks

are we on the same page?
says her look
as the carrot-topped
curtain ring-eared
punk-rock angel
over the counter rings
me up and releases the plastic
shackled CD
to my custody

so I pay up for the best
of beethoven and exit
with my short lost friend
loneliness

while she toys and stonewalls me
by twisting her nail-kabob tongue and shouts
next