is Alexei Nemchenko
The sun sneaks in through a half-open window
This is the signal
The sour scent of film developer rises
Part of a balanced breakfast
Without specific agenda
Without predispositions
The day begins
The mirror provides the same shattered image
Perhaps slightly worse than the day before
Perhaps slightly more distorted
The faucet gives a surge of cold water
Another disappointment
One not easily adapted to
The answer machine is mute
Nothing to say
It is a parasite
It is to be destroyed
But perhaps someone will leave a few scrambled words
Or a clicking sound made by a lowered receiver
Better than nothing
Part of an ongoing loneliness
The day begins
