Plastic Cup Toast

(one, two, check)

Raise a plastic cup

to the stranger in the glass

While the screen is spinning,

waiting

for the light to pass

Spinning on the map (on the map)

Spinning on the map

Locker aisle seven, night-shift cold air Fluorescent buzz above my tangled hair

My uniform is heavy,

the app map won't load Just another gig-economy ghost on the road

And the screen blinks white,

a digital spark

Leaving me

floating alone in the dark

Raise a plastic cup

to the stranger in the glass

While the screen is spinning,

waiting for the light to pass

Spinning on the map (on the map) Spinning on the map

Just a ghost in the system,

a name on a screen

Searching for something in-between

Strangers in the glass...

(plastic cups high)