good god
these days of madness
and little suicides
come in droves
where i can no longer
stand the sound
of another voice in complaint
but mine
and as another faceless
fresh turd of privilege
prattles on about their miseries
expecting empathy in return
i think of the car
that almost ran me down
this morning
at ft. hamilton and 61st street
and i think
of tender mercies too
only i’ll be goddamned
if i could tell you
the difference
between them.
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