wegmans parking lot
is it possible to feel nostalgia at twenty?
feigning suburbia in the wegmans parking lot eating sweets from the bakery on the trunk door of the car he said my maple donut was “pretty out there” fireworks pop for memorial day above the grotesque brooklyn skyline. the last time i had a donut was when we were still caught in the rye would cut second period and drive to the safeway two minutes away eat donuts on the trunk door of the car smoke weed in the cemetery across the street. donuts for dinner was his idea it made me smile too much to say no though my empty stomach turned at the thought of how i'd feel after i've been bad at actualizing consequences in my mind lately it seems easier to imagine myself as invincible. nothing has killed me yet it's hard to imagine life ending though i used to picture death every five minutes cold metal on my temple my therapist would tell me to replace this image with a pillow, earmuffs, a kiss to my forehead. five senses: asphalt smell, sweet maple flavor, frosting sticky on my fingers, pop of fireworks, pink clouds over the wegmans sign. my black shoes are dusted with powdered sugar is it possible to feel nostalgia at twenty? before i was a teenager my mother and i would get donuts before church. light warm in my memories maple donuts have always been mine, my mother plain glazed eat them in the car and make a sticky mess parked in the safeway lot. my heart breaks when i realize i will never live this image again, my therapist would tell me to focus on the new memories i am creating. donuts for dinner, why not? new memories: slow mornings light through the window wakes me up he makes us both coffee thick with oat milk hands shaky falling asleep in brooklyn bridge park eating too much for lunch donuts for dinner in the wegmans parking lot.
