Life in a deserted street
Life inside a soda can
Life in the empty hum of an air conditioner
In a musty house
In a greasy burger
In an empty toothpaste tube
In a smelly pond of stillwater
Life around the deflated tires of a rusty car
Life with no beginnings and no ends
Life with no oral perspective
Just mementos
Or postcards
Or trinkets
A life of math
Calculating how much empty space
Is there in an hour
A life of sticking your tongue out
For others to see
But crossing your fingers
In hopes that secrets remain what they seem
A life of shadowy figures
And promises long forgotten
Like taking out the trash
Or doing the dishes
Life is but an anagram
Of itself