we wait. we wait by supermarket checkout stands and convenience store lottery lines. we wait, itching, reading fake headlines and rabid text juxtaposed by sultry flesh, to move, to get out. we’re been stuck for so long in airline seats too narrow, between angry couples and air nozzles set directly at our foreheads. we would peel the foreskin if it would move the world. we would crack our forearms into ridiculous angles until the jagged end pierced outward, if only you would be quiet enough to listen.