Rafael Miguel Montes Gathering Crumbs the Next Morning The 2-minute video on WebMD can't change the fact that this is fucked. People aren't supposed to sleepwalk night after night, pulling packages from the pantry and cramming cupcakes down their throat. Normal people don't bite through the cellophane and cherryred rind of a ball of Gouda, reaching for the salted yellow meat. Waking up, hours later, cradling it in their arms like a doll's head. I am tired of the blistered lip after an all night Tootsie-Pop dissolve. Sick of the sticky spoons everywhere and fro-yo pints crushed by my turning. The way some people wake up dazed from trysts, I wake up shocked by Triscuits I don't even remember buying. Wake up to clear out the untasted clutter, wipe my chin and tease meaning from the smears on my shirt. Each night, my mouth leaves me. Frenzies through the kitchen. Leaves behind the lo-carb 5K walk-run sleeping mess, dreaming of the slimmer pair of pants and improved b.m.i. Likely grins wide around the grease, the surreptitious madeleine.

Collage ~ Gary Aronson

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