I don't fucking know

I walk quickly to nowhere with a purpose

On an unrelentingly white and hard floor,

Deftly skewering the crowd with nimble steps.

There is half of a sandwich in my pocket and

I stop to look at art by the insane.

I scowl like an owl with withering arrogance

At anyone who makes eye contact,

And I become a Pyrrhic reality for this still-life

Searing judgment with nihilistic intensity.

For no reason.