Tuesday, December 1, 2015

In Narrative He Had Little Interest In

I have the voice I want but
Not the voice I know that
Other people outside of me

Can hear. I have the voice
I earned through years of not
Being my self self-consciously.

There are only so many lives
The billions of living lives
Could stand to sit and listen

To attentively. None of those are
Me. "She's a sweety," says the old
And well-coiffed Saint George

Matron at the table next to me.
So much evaluation, so little
Time. Apparently.

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