Observation
Self-awareness resurfaces
And I’m a schmoe contorting my body
In a crowded space with stupid waste
And other schmoes who each think they’re the main character
While they drink their juice and flail their bodies
And behind a curtain
There’s an owner who profits on mindlessness
An owner to whom I’ve inexplicably given twenty bucks
For every shot of dressed up cheap tequila
That’s helped me lose my sense of reality