7-Eleven’ s a misnomer, like “mind-
body” problem. They never close. The hyphen’ s
a dash of form. Sure, this mind-body’ s
a machine, if you want, plowing across town
to the steak house. American Spirit. Give us
the yellow pack. No matches? This dollar
fifty-nine Santa lighter, too. Big Grab bag
of Doritos. No, the “engine” is not
separate — it’ s part of the machine. Sure, paper’ s
good, container for recycling. Rain’ s no problem.
I eat the Doritos, smoke up — one for you?
The chips are part of my machine —