New poem – privilege

but i don’t want to wait through this iteration of this sequence of derangements

i want a room with a door i can shut, a privy i don’t have to clean every day

and the rest is whatever else you want for a socialist paradise

what ho introversion! you give me all my best moments, the times when i can

lovingly and laboriously think about all this stuff before i go offline that last time

now i think, bending and bending toward the ground, of my good fortune

the “lucky bitch” invisibly stamped onto all of my life’s accoutrements 

the way i’ve dodged virtually every responsibility thrust upon me so well

that you would think that i was born to it, a rich saxon baron’s wife, who not once

lacked for bread her whole life, no not though the whole world else were starving


Here’s a jpeg of the poem, with better font and blocking

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Born when atmospheric carbon was 316 PPM. Settled on MST country since 1997. Parent, grandparent.

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