Trudging home on a Friday, he calls
to report on his day at the office.
He walks forty-five minutes
to work rather than ride the metro.
From his desk by the president’s
glassed-in office, he anticipates praise
for organizing the entire marketing
closet and contemplates his résumé.
He chronicles a trip to Capitol Hill,
to deliver newly published books,
observes grapes cost $2.50 a pound
at the D.C. Whole Foods,
wears the same three outfits
out of his carry-on suitcase.
He realizes microwave meals, a banana
and granola bar can only do so much.
His haircut shines like the full moon
over the capitol. If funds permit,
he will visit the animals at the zoo,
with a girl he met in the rotunda.
He slogs to his sublease in weather
And looks forward to a frozen burrito.
His housemates are on vacation to Italy.
The bathroom, at least, is his for a week.
When she is not at Eastern Kentucky University, helping students write and produce plays, do stand-up, and edit their journal, Gaby Bedetti hikes, takes photos, and sings in a choir. Though Ringling Bros. is gone, she has stepped into Cirque du Soleil’s cabinet of curiosities and joined their Corteo parade.