The Year of the Birth

The girl behind the counter called me 'Boss'

and I didn't know if it was a joke

or just the way they talk now.

I looked at the line behind me—

they all have those chunky white sneakers

I used to laugh at in my father's closet.

The bright, glowing interface of the kiosk

flashed 'Ready' and I tapped it three times too hard.

I’m just a glitch in the software,

standing in a room of people

born after I’d already had my heart broken.