B Deck, AM report

I’m in the grav toilet, sitting
Otherwise, nothing comes out
My waste is munched and bagged

Later, I sprinkle the powder on the plants
In this way, I eat myself

The water in the shower is hundreds of cycles old
I’ve had full body electrolysis, so there’s no hair down the dream other than the occasional eyelash
Then there’s the earvac, the teethvac

Next: coffee in the nav bubble
Me, and ever present stars
And the zoom call

I can’t hear what they’re saying over the leaf blowers
So I nod, and smile
Or look concerned
It depends on their hand gestures
I’ve become quite the observer
Of the stars
The power levels
Radiation meters
People I’ll never see again
Complaining about their tomatoes
The horrible man

Don’t worry, kiddo
What happens in Zumba
Stays in Zumba
And anyway, who do I have to tell your secrets to?