Panic Attack

This morning’s panic attack cost $7
thank you joe and the juice
I place my right hand over my chest until it’s over Like a tiny rollercoaster to nowhere
Yesterday my wax lady told me she can tell when I’m “going through something”
I spent 4 subway stops trying to piece together what she could have meant by that
This fall I had to stop shopping at CVS after I heard they want another four years of he who shall not be named
Still I have coupons tucked into almost every jacket, pair of jeans, bag in rotation
Tens of feet of receipt paper folded down, holding space, stamped with a faded out expired sense of self