your deep passion—for movements, for friends and
opposing arguments, for rights, for that grand
spirit of humanity—beware.
There is divide—eh, that's too easy to say—
there is great nonsense spreading through my home,
my neighborhood, my friends—Good God! I see it in your angry eyes
like a deep great stupid pent up stupid thing bursting forth
between that man at the gas pump
shouting at that other man at that other gas pump.
So many raspberry mouths—
disgusting, despicable it-doesn't-really-matter things that I've heard
thrown around like it's national—natural—like a big deal, like it matters across all possibilities—
God, the truth is unhappiness. It's like I'm faced with
someone-doesn't-care-about-people-unlike-him, like me, though he sits in a high chair.
I don’t care what you represent—No.
We were never righteous mountains in a hurricane. We're more like shrapnel.
But we don't have to be. But we're choosing to be, and why?
Oh, beware.
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