Lifeless.
My teeth tingling
they hurt a lot lately
from the task of crunching
a whole bag of Doritos,
tangy triangles of comfort.
The sharp taste
stale on my tongue.
I pull a worn subway token
from my tight pocket
look down at fingers
branded by
shameful orange nacho dust.
That agent lady may be
a Big Shot talent scout. Know
the business. Understand
modeling.
But she wouldn’t recognize
a young girl’s dreams
if she stepped all over them.