is a shitty egg
in a shitty mouth
and the slow realization that my loved ones
aren’t really waiting outside
with wet lips
as much a relief
as you’d think.
all air tastes like car heater air,
and the sun is heavily featured
at its worst angles,
with particular emphasis on that
“driving home after five” look,
the one that kills people.
MAX COHEN is an MFA candidate at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Ghost Proposal, Ninth Letter, and Columbia Poetry Review. He drinks iced tea, even when it’s inadvisable.